Impetuous

by Lori Foster

  “God, Carlie. I can’t believe how you hid yourself. Never again, sweetheart, do you hear me? You’re mine now. I won’t let you hide from me again.”

  He lowered his head, unable to wait a moment longer, and caught a nipple, nibbling with his lips, lightly flicking with his tongue.

  “Tyler, please…”

  “Yes, honey. Soon, soon.” His sharp teeth closed on her, carefully tugging, and when she groaned, throwing her head back and turning her face away as she gripped the blankets in fierce pleasure, he tugged again, pulling sweetly, taunting her. Her hands settled in his hair, urging him closer toward her. He drew her in, suckling gently, then hard, until her hips were writhing against him.

  He hadn’t planned his seduction, didn’t have premeditated intentions of devastating her with his finesse. It just didn’t occur to him to end the pleasure anytime soon. He’d waited so long, a lifetime, it seemed, for Carlie to be like this with him, and his senses were rioting, his body moving of its own volition.

  He was mindless to everything but taking and giving pleasure. And at the moment, hearing Carlie’s gasps and soft feminine moans gave him more pleasure than he thought he could endure.

  Tyler slid to the side of her, his hand coasting languidly over her midriff and beneath the waistband of her pants to caress her soft belly. Carlie turned to face him. “Tyler, I think I’m going to die.”

  “No. You won’t die, sweetheart.” He sat up. “Let me get these other clothes off you.”

  She was trembling all over, her body taut and aching, and as Tyler slid the pants down her long legs, his fingers touched her, skimming over her soft flesh, teasing the insides of her thighs. He pulled the pants free of her ankles, then sat there at her side, simply looking at her. Restless, her long legs moved in subtle, impatient turns. She looked at him, seeing his gaze so intent on her body, then turned away, her eyes closing, only to look at him again.

  “I can see all of you, Carlie, despite the dark.” His hand slid down her thigh, stopping at her knees, slowly easing her legs farther apart. She gasped, and he smiled in the moonlight. “I love looking at you, a woman with a woman’s body. You have nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I’m…I’m…” Carlie gasped again, not able to get the words out.

  His finger sifted through her curls, finding her flesh hot and swollen, wet with need. He wanted to shout with excitement. “You’re perfect. Just the way nature intended a woman to be.” As he talked, he stroked her, slowly, one finger dipping just inside her, withdrawing when her hips rose sharply.

  “Feel how wet you are for me, Carlie.” He pressed his finger inside her again, this time deeper, and she groaned, her legs spreading wider without his instruction. Her every move inflamed him, she was so special…yet somehow, it all seemed familiar.

  His body rocked with his pounding heartbeat and he bent to press his face into her belly. He could smell her, the spicy scent of her desire filling him, shaking him profoundly.

  Sliding off the bed, he went to his knees between her legs. Before she could voice a protest, before he could even think about what he was doing, he’d caught her thighs and tugged her to the very edge of the mattress. Her legs hung over the side, Tyler between them. She raised herself on an elbow, peering down at him in confusion, and he quickly lifted her knees over his shoulders, then pressed his face into her heat.

  Her gasp was immediate, her protest loud. He ignored her, locking his arms around her hips, holding her still. “You taste so good, Carlie. So damn good.” She fell back with a low cry, lifting herself to his seeking tongue.

  Her trembling increased, her body arching from the mattress. He caught her sensitized flesh carefully between his teeth, holding her captive for his hot tongue, intent on her climax now, devastating her, enjoying her, driving her closer with each and every movement he made. She called his name, softly, over and over. He slid his hands against her, abruptly pushing two fingers deep inside her.

  Wild, shattering sensations swept through her body, and Tyler could feel her contractions against his mouth and tongue, pressing closer, relishing every second of her pleasure. It seemed to go on and on, and he pushed her for more.

  When Carlie finally went limp, Tyler raised himself, scooting up to lie upon her. “You’re beautiful.” Her hair was tangled about her head and a fine sheen of moisture glistened on her skin. He kissed her slack mouth, then stood, quickly removing his pants.

  Carlie opened her eyes, but she didn’t smile. She seemed dazed, her gaze intent on his body. Tyler leaned forward, naked, to brush his fingers through the curls between her thighs. She sucked in a startled breath, her hips pressing into the mattress.

  His touch eased, barely skimming her, and she trembled. “Too sensitive?” He watched her nod, seeing the confusion in her bright eyes. He palmed her, his hand still and warm.

  Sitting on the bed beside her, he looked over her body. Her legs were still sprawled, her knees bent so her calves hung over the bed. Her arms were limp, lying palm up beside her head. She was watching him closely.

  He looked at her breasts, still heaving slightly, and leaned down to gently take a nipple between his teeth. She groaned, her body clenching once again. “Tyler, please.”

  “Just a minute, sweetheart. I have to protect you.”

  It took him only a moment, but she was frantic with need, and Tyler closed his eyes in anticipation. He felt her thighs open wider, accommodating him, and with only the subtlest of movement, he was ready to enter her.

  Poised on his forearms, he watched every nuance of her expression as he slowly, inexorably, sank into her, giving her his length, stretching her with his hardness.

  She moved anxiously against him, and forced him past his control. Thrusting smoothly and deeply, he wound his hands in Carlie’s hair, anchoring her head so he could kiss her, swallowing her gasping breaths and soft, broken moans.

  When he felt her tightening again, this time around his arousal, squeezing him, giving him unbelievable pleasure, he found his own explosive orgasm. Closing his arms around her, he held her tight until the spasms had faded.

  It was several minutes before Tyler found the strength to move away from her warm body. He rolled to his side, but immediately pulled her close. He felt oddly disturbed, and frankly disloyal. He’d never known anything like what he’d just experienced with Carlie—except for that one night in the pool house. He hadn’t wanted those memories to interfere. They no longer mattered; he no longer cared.

  But thoughts of that night, images and heated memories, had danced through his mind even as his senses filled with Carlie. His Carlie. He squeezed her closer, trying to chase away the images, but they didn’t budge. Carlie leaned up to look at him.

  “Tyler? What’s wrong?”

  She sounded anxious, and he rushed to reassure her. “What could possibly be wrong? Other than the fact I think you may have killed me with pleasure. I’m certain I no longer have legs. At least, if I do, they’re totally useless right now.” He cupped her cheek. “You’re incredible, do you know that?”

  She cuddled back down to his chest, her hands stroking through the dark curls there. “No. It was you. You were wonderful, Tyler.”

  He froze. The masked lady had said virtually the same thing on the phone. It unnerved him. Especially since the two women were so different. The woman at the party had been reserved, nearly frightened and so timid about each move he made, but Carlie had participated wholeheartedly. She was everything a man could want or hope to have in a mate.

  He felt as though he’d somehow tainted the otherwise exquisite experience by envisioning another woman. No matter that the thought had come out of the blue. How could another woman, any woman, have intruded when he was with his Carlie? And she was his now. Savage possessiveness gripped him; he would never let her go.

  Thinking that, he lowered his head to press a kiss to her temple. “You can’t ever close me out again, Carlie. I won’t let you.”

  Her reacti
on was immediate, and again, unexpected. She went perfectly still, almost stunned. He ran his hand over her shoulder. “You’re mine, Carlie. I need you.”

  She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “Tyler, there’s something you need to know.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. She was already trying to escape him, but he wouldn’t let her. He kissed her again, then rose from the bed. “Now, we need that shower.”

  Her eyes widened. “I can’t…!”

  “Of course you can. Come on, I’ll wash your back. And anything else that needs my attention.”

  He could sense her thinking, plotting. She twisted her hands in the sheets. “I’m too tired. You’ve exhausted me. Please, just come back to bed.”

  It hit him like a lightning bolt. She didn’t want him to see her, really see her, without her clothing hiding her figure, making her look frumpy. He frowned thoughtfully, uncertain how to proceed. If she had a scar or some other reason to be embarrassed…but he’d touched every inch of her; certainly he would have noticed if anything was wrong. Still, her anxiety was very real, almost tangible, and he couldn’t push her. Not after all she’d already given him, not after sharing herself so completely.

  He touched her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

  He walked out of the room unconcerned with his own nudity, returning only moments later with a damp cloth. He left the lights off and seated himself beside her, content with the way she followed his progress. “Your eyes are so wide, you must think I’m intending some kind of mayhem.”

  Carlie shifted fretfully. “What are you intending?”

  “Only to wash you. Now lie still and behave.”

  With a rapid peddling motion of her long legs, she scooted backward until she was pressed against the head-board. “Tyler, no! Good grief, I’m perfectly capable of tending myself.”

  He caught her foot, stroking the damp cloth up her calf and behind her knee. “But I want to do it. Now relax and stop fighting me.”

  She remained stiff, but she didn’t struggle against him. “You’re outrageous, Tyler.”

  “Don’t sound so sulky. Before long, you’ll learn to enjoy my outrageousness, I promise.”

  Tyler was thorough, using the cool cloth to stroke slowly over her body, removing all traces of their lovemaking. Carlie finally gave up her inhibitions, relaxing and enjoying his ministrations. Tyler chuckled when she moaned softly, then he bent to kiss a soft pink nipple.

  “Sleep, Carlie. We need sleep.” She frowned at him, and he stroked her one last time. “I’ll be right back.”

  Tyler showered in a hurry, not wanting to take the chance Carlie would recover and send him home. He wanted to hold her in his arms all night.

  He wanted to wake in the morning and look at her in the full light of day. And make love to her again.

  She was an enigma, but he was slowly coming to understand her, completely and without doubts. She was trustworthy, the only trustworthy woman he’d ever known.

  With his hair still damp, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, he reentered the bedroom. He could see Carlie’s huge golden eyes shining at him in the darkness. He hesitated, waiting only a heartbeat, and she leaned forward, throwing back the blankets, silently inviting him into her bed.

  He dropped the towel over a chair and slid in beside her. She immediately curled against him, settling her hand on his chest. In the smallest voice he’d ever heard from Carlie, she whispered, “Thank you, Tyler.”

  “Thank you? That’s an unusual sentiment from a woman who just gave herself to a man.”

  “I didn’t. Give myself to you, that is. You gave yourself to me. And you did it perfectly. It was wonderful, you were wonderful, and I thank you.”

  His chuckle nearly jarred her from her position against his shoulder. “You’re very welcome…and by far the most appreciative woman I’ve ever made love to.”

  Her hand moved slowly over his chest, kneading the swell of muscle, teasing her fingers through the fine, dark hair. “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

  She sounded wary, unsure of herself. Tyler kissed the top of her head, then yawned hugely. “We’ll talk, but only after I’ve gotten a chance to enjoy waking up with you.”

  Carlie was silent, her face turned into his skin, and he felt the sweet, very brief touch of her lips. He wasn’t certain what to make of this new mood of hers, but then, it didn’t matter. She was his, and nothing was going to change that. He wouldn’t let it.

  IT WAS THE SUNLIGHT streaming in that first stirred Tyler. His eyes opened slowly. Remembrance came in a rush of contentment, and he looked down to see Carlie still close to him, but now turned so that her bottom was nestled securely against his groin. His palm rested on her breast. Her skin was warm and silky and smooth.

  She was peaceful in her sleep, her body lax, one hand curled beneath her cheek giving the illusion of childlike innocence. But she was no child.

  Very quietly, Tyler raised himself onto one elbow, gazing down at her, a strange, stirring mix of emotions swamping him. He wanted to wake her and make love to her; he wanted to lie down and hold her forever.

  He forced himself to be considerate and do neither. She was exhausted, and she needed her sleep. She didn’t move so much as an eyelash when he carefully slid out of the bed.

  The first order of business was a shave. His morning beard was harsh, and he didn’t want to scratch her tender skin. And he didn’t want to have to avoid kissing her in all the most delectable places because of beard stubble. He smiled at the thought.

  Carlie wasn’t the straitlaced, narrow-minded prude he’d expected. All her talk of reputations and gossip had been misleading. She was magnificent. Wild and open and honest with her feelings. She’d told him he was wonderful.

  The mysterious masked woman had told him the same thing.

  That wayward thought had him scowling at himself in the mirror. It was traitorous. Carlie deserved much better. He was a cad to still concern himself with another woman’s identity. If he never discovered the truth, it wouldn’t matter.

  Deliberately, he shoved those disturbing thoughts from his mind. The mystery woman may have been a fantasy come to life, but Carlie was a living fantasy. Her effect on him was unbelievable, and he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

  Naked, he stood in the bathroom and looked around. Surely Carlie had a razor somewhere. He checked in the vanity drawers, then the medicine cabinet. He didn’t find a a razor, but a small contact case caught his attention.

  Smiling, he envisioned Carlie wearing contacts, relegating the ugly glasses to the desk drawer forever. She had beautiful eyes, the hazel clear and unique and pure.

  It was idle curiosity that prompted him to open the case. For a moment, he stared stupidly at the colored lenses. They were a very bright, familiar blue. Then his face reddened.

  He’d seen that color before. The night of the party.

  Reality beat a swift path into his brain.

  His guileless, forthright, honest Carlie had played him for a fool. He remembered the recent phone call, and his face burned, the heat of humiliation spreading rapidly down his neck. He was filled with fierce blinding anger, and the most devastating disappointment he’d ever known.

  He’d thought of Carlie as near-perfect; dedicated to the children and to loftier causes for the common good. He’d thought her stubborn, headstrong and thoroughly independent. But not a liar.

  She was still sleeping when he entered the bedroom. He was intent on his course, not about to be swayed by the alluring picture she made. Deliberately, he sat on the side of the bed, promptly waking her.

  Her long lashes fluttered and her eyes opened slowly. She looked up into his unsmiling face, and reached for him.

  “Tyler.” Her hand landed on his naked thigh, and she stroked him. He dropped forward on one elbow so they were nose to nose. “Good morning, sweetheart. I trust you slept well?”

  Her hand came up to his cheek, and she nodded. She felt his stubbly chin, th
en smiled slowly. “You’re so very dark.”

  His look was grim. Pushing away the covers, he surveyed her body. “You’re certainly not.” His eyes fell to the tight curls between her thighs. “Light brown. Close to the color of your beautiful head. Maybe not as golden. Certainly not black.”

  She gasped.

  “Who are we today, Carlie? Maybe you’d like me to run home and fetch my pirate costume? I could pretend you were a virgin maiden, and ‘pillage’ you to my heart’s content.”

  He saw her pale throat move as she swallowed, but otherwise she remained still, not even blinking. The hurt in her golden eyes enraged him all the more. He couldn’t stop himself from taunting her. “No? You don’t like that idea? Then how about I rent a sheikh costume? That role you would surely approve of. After all, you wear the veils so well. Maybe I could convince you to dance for me. I’d like that, I’m sure.”

  She pulled away without touching him. Her look was distant and wary. “You don’t understand, Tyler.”

  “Now, there’s where you’re wrong.” He reached out to wrap a lock of long hair around his finger, tugging her face closer to his own. “I understand perfectly. You wanted to experiment, and were too much the coward to come out from behind your spinster disguise. But now there’s no reason to pretend. Hell, I enjoyed myself last night. What red-blooded male wouldn’t have?”

  “Tyler…”

  “Don’t look so concerned, sweetheart. I’m still willing to play. I only wish you’d told me the way of it sooner. Just think of all the time we’ve wasted. We could have been enjoying ourselves quite a bit.” He gazed mockingly down the length of her exposed body. He ignored the way her pulse beat frantically in her slim throat, just as he ignored the horrified expression on her face, the tears starting to glisten in her eyes. He wouldn’t be a fool again. Once was more than enough. It was more than he could bear.

  He hurt so badly. He had never felt so betrayed in his life, not even when he’d finally realized how little he meant to his mother. He’d expected deception and manipulation from her. But he’d trusted Carlie. Fool.