What a Woman Wants

by Brenda Jackson

  But first things first. He reached out and pulled her to him, and before a gasp of surprise could escape her lips, he had those lips smothered under his, greedily lapping up any sigh she was to make. On instinct, his tongue went deeper into her mouth, moved all around to taste and possess while his hands moved down to her narrow waist, bringing her closer to the fit of him, wanting her to feel the pressure of his desire for her.

  Damn and damn all over again. He wanted her. Here and now. His arousal was so intense, he knew if he didn’t have her at that moment, he would go insane.

  Within minutes he had unhooked his jeans and pushed them and his briefs down past his knees. She had quickly gotten the idea and had removed her shorts and panties, tossing both aside. He surprised her when he flipped her around, and to keep from stumbling she placed hands, palms down, on the hood of his car. And then he was directly behind her, molded skin to skin to the delicious curve of her buttocks while his fingers eased between her legs.

  He heard the sound she made deep in her throat the exact moment he touched her wetness, caressing her intimately with his fingers over and over. She whispered his name ... his name... between clenched teeth, and the sound pushed him over the edge.

  Aroused to the Nth degree, he cupped her bottom in his hands, tilted her hips upward, and on an urgent groan he drove into her from behind. He thrust in and out, frantically stroking her, and her satisfied moans only made him increase the pace. Over and over he pounded into her, felt her clench him, milk him, demand that he let go and explode inside her, and his heart was thumping at the realization that for a minute he’d been able to read her thoughts. And with that another slow, nearly painful realization struck him, one he refused to acknowledge at that moment, one he refused to acknowledge ever. Instead he continued thrusting into her, and when she let out a loud scream of pleasure that almost shook the windows, he exploded, shooting deep inside her womb. He felt it. Thick. Hot. He felt her clench him with her inner muscles, milk him more fiercely while he gave her just what she wanted, what it seemed her body needed.

  He didn’t pull out of her until there was nothing left to give; then he turned her around and captured her mouth in his, tasting each and every one of her aftershocks, and at that moment all he could think about, although he didn’t want to, was the fact that he wanted this, all of it—her—for the rest of his life.

  Shannon let out a deep satisfied sigh as she wiped down the leather interior of the car. After making love to her and then delivering such a torrid and passionate kiss, Adam had given her the key to his apartment so she could use his bathroom to freshen up a bit. When she returned downstairs, he had been waiting for her and handed her a cloth and a bottle of leather cleaner and told her what he wanted done.

  She glanced out the windshield at him. He had an intense look on his face while he worked on some auto part she wasn’t familiar with. Hell, she hadn’t known a car had so many parts, and he seemed to know them as well as he knew the parts of a woman’s body. He definitely had a way with women, and his expertise spoke of what was probably years of experience. Although she didn’t know his exact age, she would figure he was no older than thirty-five.

  She then realized of all the things they’d shared, mostly sexual, there was a lot she still didn’t know about him and figured since they had a lot of time to kill, now was just as good a time as any to start asking questions. “How old are you?” she called out, getting his attention.

  He glanced over at her through the windshield, and the grin that spread across his face was full of sin and sensuality, a deadly combination. She wished it didn’t set off this rush of desire spreading through her.

  “Old enough to make what we just did an hour ago perfectly legal,” he said before turning his attention back to what he was doing.

  “I’m sure of that, but just how old are you?”

  “How old do you think I am?”

  “Umm, around thirty-four or thirty-five.”

  He threw his head back and laughed.

  Shannon looked bemused. “What’s so funny?”

  “You’re off by a couple of years.”

  “Up or down?”

  “Up.”

  She nodded. “You’re thirty-seven then.”

  He smiled at her. “Bingo.”

  “You wear your age well.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Have you been a mechanic all your life?”

  Adam kept his eyes on what he was doing. He knew that now was a good time to tell her the truth, that he wasn’t a mechanic at all and that he was a highly successful attorney in Memphis. He could further boast that he came from a family of attorneys and that they owned a very well established, very affluent law firm there and that he was the oldest son of Judge Warren Corbain.

  But Adam also knew if her were to tell her the truth about himself and they continued to see each other, he would never know if the reason she’d hung around was because he was someone she considered worthy of her social class or because he was someone she truly wanted to get to know and be with—regardless of his occupation and personal history.

  Although he didn’t want to deceive her, deep down he knew there was a reason he was about to mislead her. Shannon needed to learn that you couldn’t go around placing people in nice little slots.

  “Pretty much,” he finally answered, and said, “What about you? How long have you been teaching in the university system?”

  “Five years, right after getting my doctorate. I graduated from high school at sixteen and went straight on through and had my doctorate before I turned twenty-five. First I taught at a small private university in Ohio for a few years, and then I got the opportunity to move to Duke. I worked hard and was tenured by the time I was twenty-eight.”

  Adam nodded. That was impressive. “And how old are you?” he asked.

  “Thirty-two. I have a birthday coming up in September.” For a brief moment Shannon wondered why she’d even bothered to mention that. It wasn’t as if they would still be having a fling then. She then glanced back at him. “Have you ever wanted to do something else?”

  He glanced at her and lifted a brow. “Something like what?”

  She shrugged. “Anything other than mechanic work. Did you ever aspire to do something different?”

  “Yes. At one time I wanted to drag-race cars, but my father put his foot down and my mother was extremely grateful he did.”

  She nodded. “Both your parents are still alive?”

  His smile widened. “Yes, very much so.”

  “Any siblings?”

  Adam wondered where all these questions were leading to. “Yes, I got two brothers and a sister. I’m the oldest. Everyone is married except for me and my brother Grant.” Adam thought she didn’t particularly seem to be impressed with that information.

  “When will you be through repairing this car?”

  Again Adam found himself amused and bit down to keep from laughing out loud for a second time. “This car is not getting repaired.”

  “Oh? Then what are you doing to it?”

  He glanced back at her. “I’m restoring it. There’s a difference.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  He shook his head, knowing she really didn’t see at all. “Tell me about your parents,” he said, suddenly wondering about the couple who’d given life to her and how much they contributed to her attitude about a lot of things.

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Are you close to them?”

  He heard when she drew in a shaky breath before turning her face away from him. Evidently the subject of her parents was a rather sore one. But she’d asked him about his, and so as far as he was concerned, it was fair play to inquire about hers. “Shannon?”

  She turned her attention back to him. “I’m their only child, so in a way we’re close but my parents are and have always been dictators. I think the only reason I was born is because they felt it was logical for them to have a child, and my parents are very logical p
eople.”

  He nodded. “Why do you say they’re dictators?”

  “Because they are. For as long as I can remember, they told me what to do, how to dress, how to act, who to become friends with, who not to become friends with, who to date, who not to date, what career to choose ... so on and so forth.”

  “You never felt the need to stand up to them when you got older?” Adam asked. His parents hadn’t been that way. He, his parents, and siblings had a close relationship, and he couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

  “Yes,” she said coolly. “But then with my parents, you learn not to rock the boat. That’s why them living in Connecticut and me living in North Carolina is the best thing. We get together for the usual holidays when I’m summoned to come home, but that’s about it.”

  “What about—?”

  “I don’t want to talk about them anymore. In fact, I suggest we stay away from getting too personal with each other.”

  “All right.” Adam knew what she didn’t say: Except when we getphysical. And that was as personal as it could get. It was obvious to him that she was trying to keep him at a distance, not wanting him to get involved in the personal side of her life. As far as he was concerned, that was too damn bad—because he intended to get as up close and personal as he could.

  27

  Zach was intense and greatly intrigued with the subject matter he was painting. And he was deeply in love. They said beauty was in the eye of the beholder and if that was true, he thought he’d never feasted his eyes upon a more breathtaking sight.

  Anna sat demurely still, in the center of the room in a high wing-back leather chair of a neutral beige color. The sunlight pouring in through an open window seemed to bathe her in a sort of radiant glow. He was determined to capture that glow with every stroke he made.

  Her hair was down, flowing around her shoulders, just the way he liked, and the light pink dress she wore gave all new meaning to femininity. Her feet were bare, which was fine, since he didn’t intend to show anything past her waistline, an area he had gotten to know pretty well last night. Even now, shivers ran through him when he remembered everything about their intimate time together, especially her innocence and how she had entrusted him with a gift he would cherish always.

  It was Sunday, a little past noon. They had awakened early and made love again before getting up for breakfast. They had been sitting out on the porch, eating pancakes with bacon and eggs and sipping coffee when the sun came up, as stunning as it had been when it went down yesterday. And all the while he’d sat across from Anna, watching her eat and slowly drink her coffee, he had felt this intense love as well as an extreme desire for her. And it didn’t help matters to know this would be their last day alone on Glendale Shores.

  The rest of the family would start arriving tomorrow at different times, and because he and Anna wouldn’t want to be caught unawares, it would be safer for them not to share a bed tonight. Not that he was trying to keep their relationship a secret—to him it was a matter of respect.

  When he placed the paintbrush aside to step back and study his work, he let out a satisfied sigh, extremely pleased with the finished product. He had done a good job of capturing Anna’s beauty on the canvas. She could be a model for any magazine cover. She had a beautifully shaped face with a cocoa-colored skin tone, dark almond-shaped eyes, full lips, and a straight nose. He thought now the same thing he’d thought the first time he saw her. She was heavenly.

  “Are you finished?”

  He glanced up and smiled. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m done.”

  “May I see it?”

  “Yes.”

  He watched how she rose gracefully from the chair to come and stand beside him. “So what do you think?” he asked.

  She turned to him with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Zach, you make me look ...” It was if she was looking for the right word to say.

  “Look how?”

  “Beautiful.”

  He laughed. “Anna, you are beautiful. Why is that so hard to believe?” He knew such compliments were hard for her to take.

  “Because while growing up, the other Vietnamese wanted the children like me to feel that way. Most of them hated Americans and disliked the Eurasians as well because of our mixed blood. They made us feel like ugly outcasts.”

  Familiar anger raced through Zach at what she had needlessly endured as a child while her father’s family and her father’s best friend had tirelessly tried to find her to bring her home.

  “Well, no matter what you were told then, I’m telling you now. Again,” he said, reaching out and pulling her into his arms, “that you’re beautiful and I love you.”

  “Thank you, Zach, and I love you, too. I love you so much, it scares me.”

  He lifted a brow when he felt her shiver. “It scares you in what way?”

  She released a somewhat shaky breath. “I know you talked to your parents and my uncle about us, and that you believe my grandparents will be fine with it, but what about others?”

  He pulled back and studied her face and actually saw the worry lines there. “Others like who? Trey and Haywood? My sister Noelle? Randi?Who?”

  “No, none of them. I was thinking more of the people you associate with in Washington. Your friends. I can’t help but remember what happened when the media thought we had a thing going before when we actually didn’t. What will they do when they find out that now we really do? They can be mean and hateful.”

  “Yes, but we have to keep in mind that what we do and how we feel about each other is nobody’s business but ours. Reporters want to sell newspapers, so sometimes they print stuff that’s more speculation that proven truth. Our love has to be strong to survive that, and I think it is.”

  A small smile touched her lips. “You’re so positive.”

  He smiled warmly. “There’s no way I can’t be. I just discovered within the past twenty-four hours that the woman I love actually loves me in return. I feel like a very blessed man.”

  He pulled her closer into his arms and captured her lips, kissing her with an intensity that he wanted her to feel too. And when he deepened the kiss, he could feel their shared desire taking over. “Everyone starts arriving tomorrow,” he whispered against her lips when he reluctantly ended the kiss. “So this will be our last day alone, and I want to make it special for us. Later today I think it would be nice if we were to have a picnic by the pond.”

  She smiled. “That would be nice, but you said later today. What do you plan to do now?”

  He placed a light kiss on her moist lips and said, “Go back to bed. If I do, will you join me there?”

  “Yes.”

  He took her hand and led her up the stairs to his bedroom.

  28

  Although it seemed crazy, Monique would swear her lips were still tingling from Lyle’s kiss of the night before when she met him downstairs in the lobby. She wasn’t quite ready when he’d called, and when he offered to come to her room and wait while she finished dressing, she quickly suggested that he wait for her in the lobby instead.

  All last night she’d been restless, barely getting any sleep. Lyle’s kiss had reminded her of the sorry state of her sex life, and it had reminded her in a big way. Never had her body felt so sensitive to touch, something she discovered when she’d gotten dressed for bed. Then there were those fantasies that kept floating through her mind: visions of them together, wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing . .. making love.

  More than just sparks!

  That particular memory resurfaced the exact moment her feet touched the last stair and she saw him. Their gazes connected, and she felt an unmistakable air of sensuality surrounding them and quickly drew in her breath. She’d known she was attracted to Lyle, but she’d not known the degree of that attraction until now.

  Okay—she would admit there was this charged chemistry flowing between them, but what was she supposed to do about it? The answer was quick: not a doggone thing. She didn’t know the first thing ab
out seducing a man. Paul had been the first and only man she’d ever slept with, and until Lyle, she’d not entertained any thoughts of sharing herself with anyone else.

  She watched as he crossed the floor to her, and inhaled sharply when he took her hand and laced her fingers with his before leaning over and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

  “You’re ready to go?” he asked, his voice deep and sensual.

  She was tempted to tell him that she was ready for a lot of things, but decided not to. She’d never been that forward with any man and the way he was looking at her with those dark intense eyes of his was making her heart beat erratically in her chest. “Yes, I’m ready.”

  He led her out the door, and when they stepped into the sunlight, he turned to her, his expression serious. “About last night...”

  His voice was low and husky, and she wondered what he was going to say. When he didn’t say anything, she prompted, “What about it?”

  “Our kiss.”

  She met his intense gaze. “Yes?”

  “Maybe I should apologize, but I won’t. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

  This was news to her, and curiosity made her ask, “For how long?”

  “Ever since that first time Arnie took me home with him, which was our first year of med school.”

  Surprise lit her eyes. “But I was only sixteen.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I know. You were sixteen, yet so utterly beautiful, I couldn’t help but be attracted to you then. If your parents had known how much, they would have asked me to leave. You were sixteen and I was twenty-one. That was a big difference in our ages, although you had a maturity about you that was beyond your sixteen years.”

  Monique shook her head, not wanting to believe any of what he was saying. How could he have been attracted to her and she not know it? He’d always treated her with respect yet indifference, like he thought of her as nothing more than Arnie’s kid sister. “Did Arnie know?”