Sky removed his hat and stepped closer. "Sweet Pretty Windy," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. "You're so innocent."
She swallowed. "I suppose I am, compared to the women you're probably used to."
"Yeah." He lowered his chin and brazenly stared down at the cleavage her dress revealed. She might be innocent, but she looked like a vixen tonight. A sultry goddess.
"Sky, what are you doing?"
"Looking down your dress. I like it."
She scolded him in a soft voice. "That's not a very polite thing to do."
"Sorry." He lifted his head. "I've been thinking about doing that all night. Couldn't help myself."
Windy laughed, the throaty sound honest and free. "You're wicked, you know that?"
Wicked? Quickly he bent his head to nuzzle her cleavage. He'd show her wicked.
"Oh, my goodness … now what are you doing?" She squirmed and giggled. When his hair fell across the top of her breasts, she delved into it.
An elderly couple walked by. The man peered over his shoulder as the woman snorted. Clearly embarrassed, Windy giggled again. "Sky, we're making a spectacle of ourselves."
"We are?" He brought his face up next to hers. "Then let's go play on the beach."
"I'm not dressed to play on the beach."
He rubbed his forehead hypnotically across hers. "Then let me undress you so we can go play on the beach."
"You're teasing me." She buried her hands in his hair and let the silkiness spill out over her wrists and down her arms.
"I think about undressing you. I think about it all the time."
A soft moan escaped her lips. "You undress me with your eyes. You make me feel vulnerable."
Sky smoothed his cheek against hers. "I don't want to make you feel vulnerable, Windy," he whispered. "I want to make you feel good." He moved closer, daring her to feel his raging arousal.
As her body swayed, she gripped his arms for support and breathed deeply. "Do you want to taste my lip gloss now?" she asked, her voice soft and tempting.
She looked as creamy and sweet as a hot-fudge sundae, her caramel eyes warm and glazed.
Accepting what was offered, he leaned in and flicked his tongue across her lips, tasting the sweet essence of a woman and the honeyed cosmetic she wore.
Like a feral beast, Windy's passion clawed back at him. Cupping his face, she tasted him. Frantically her tongue laved over his lips and down his chin until she latched on to his neck and nipped the pulsing flesh.
Sky nearly erupted on the spot.
Since he still held his hat in one hand, he dropped the Stetson to the ground and used both hands to pull her face up to his. They kissed. Ferociously uncontrolled, the moist contact was openmouthed and carnal. When his tongue thrust into her mouth, she met it desperately. Over and over they kissed, stopping sporadically for small breaths of salty air.
Windy's hands found the back pockets on his jeans. Slipping inside each one, she urged his hips toward her and then arched and rubbed against him like a feline pleading to be stroked. Sensing her need, he complied, caressing every part of her within his reach.
She felt good. So damn good. The thrust of her tongue made him want to carry her to the beach and lay her in the sand. Bury himself so deep within her their bodies would move as one. Stroke her until she purred and climaxed beneath him.
Caught up in his fantasy, Sky began to lift her off the ground. His mind was filled with sex—carnal images and primal urges. He intended to cradle her rear, wrap her legs around his waist and rub his heat against hers. He didn't care if they were standing in a public place, going after each other like a couple of oversexed alley cats.
But apparently she did. Quickly she shoved him away, breaking the contact.
"What's wrong?" he asked, although he knew. Windy only stared back at him, openmouthed. Tempted to push his tongue back into that open mouth, his gaze raked across the woman feeding his desire.
"Sky," Windy said his name as if there were an explanation in it. Widening her eyes, she laughed a little. A shy, embarrassed laugh.
He looked around. A few people were strolling up and down the pier, some were seated on nearby benches, sipping gourmet coffee. One tattered old man was fishing. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them, at least not now.
"Do you think we had an audience?" he asked, suddenly craving a smoke. Sky damned himself for quitting. He still had an urge to keep his mouth busy.
Windy shrugged, still visibly embarrassed. "We were … I mean, we shouldn't have been…"
"We were kissing, honey." He flashed a grin rife with mischief. "And it felt good. Damn good. Best mind sex I've ever had."
"Sky!"
"Admit it," he said, teasing her. "You were having mind sex, too."
She blushed. "You're wicked, Skyler."
He laughed. "Admit it, Pretty Windy. You were thinking about—"
"Okay," she interrupted quickly, a rosy hue still staining her cheeks. "I was. But we were getting carried away. I've never acted like that in public before."
Sky fumbled with the cigarettes in his shirt pocket as a small breeze tousled his hair. "Told ya we should have played on the beach. It's quieter down there."
"We probably would have been arrested," Windy muttered, as she tugged on her dress self-consciously.
He laughed. "Can you imagine what Edith would have done when we called her to bail us out of jail?"
"She would have skinned you alive." Windy smiled and stepped into his arms, where he wished she could stay.
"Do you want to get some dessert?" he asked, hugging her.
"Sure." She looked up at him. "Where's your hat?"
"Oh, hell."
They separated and searched the immediate ground. The hat was nowhere to be seen, but he wasn't about to go combing the length of the pier. Scouting around in the dark looking for a black hat wasn't his idea of fun. Chalk it up to experience. He could always buy another hat. Freeing his hands to touch Windy was worth the two hundred bucks. She had to be the wildest little creature he had ever kissed. Pretty Windy's passion was as untamed as her windblown hair.
"Do you think somebody stole your hat?"
"Maybe." Sky looked down at the crashing waves below. "Or it blew overboard."
"Did you drop it?"
"Yeah, on purpose," he answered with a dastardly grin. "The damn thing was in the way."
She chuckled. "You're adorable, Sky."
"Puppies are adorable," he said, suddenly bothered by her affection. "Guys like me are dangerous."
He had no right to want her so badly or to lure her into wanting him. She was right. They had gone too far. Tonight, he decided, would be their first and last date, otherwise he'd end up taking complete advantage of her. He'd done enough rotten things in his life and had no intention of hurting Windy. She deserved better. This date was a mistake and so was that mind-blowing kiss.
"Let's go get that dessert," he said. They needed to talk.
* * *
Seated side by side on a wrought-iron bench in front of the ice cream parlor, they ate dessert. While Windy lapped one scoop of fat-free chocolate yogurt, Sky worked heartily on a doubled-decker French vanilla ice cream cone.
As his tongue slid over the ice cream, she admonished herself. Watching a man eat shouldn't make her feel weak-kneed, yet every time Sky lifted food to his mouth, her body surged with a hunger of its own—a need she had never experienced before. She had kissed other men, but none of the clean-cut professionals she'd dated had ever made her fantasize about losing her virginity. But Sky, gorgeous, wild-spirited Sky, had ignited a sensual fire in every cell of her being.
They finished their dessert in silence, both, she realized, lost in their own thoughts. At times she wished she could read his mind. The man was as unpredictable as a summer rain. Much too often his easy manner and boyish smile faltered. Like now, she thought, noticing the furrow in his brow and clouds darkening his eyes. They sat beneath the incandescent glow of a st
reetlight. She could see his expression vividly, and it reflected a mood change.
He deposited their soiled napkins in a nearby trash can and resumed his seat, his legs spread, his hands idle against his knees. The loose posture was his signature, a part of his defy-the-rules nature. And it was, unfortunately, one of the habits that made him appealing—so different from the kind of man with whom Windy envisioned herself falling in love.
Love? She stared at the road as a car full of teenagers breezed by. What had made her think that? Her hormones, she told herself, combined with the equally stimulating effects of salty air and a hair-tousling breeze. Yeah, right. What about the cowboy who dominated her thoughts, the blue-eyed drifter who invaded her dreams? Wasn't he responsible for her feelings? Her fear of falling in love?
Yes, she thought, turning to look at him once again. He was. Their flirtations weren't harmless. Something more than friendship brewed between them. Windy took a deep breath. She didn't believe in living in denial. If her heart had become entangled with his, then she would have to deal with that. Another time, she told herself. When they weren't sharing an enchanted beach setting, when she wasn't aching to touch him so badly. Right now she wanted to kiss his disturbing frown away.
Sky caught her eye and cleared his throat as if preparing for a speech. "Honey, there's something we need to talk about."
For a moment Windy panicked. Did he know her feelings went beyond lust? That she battled with her emotions? Or that suddenly she wanted to keep him forever?
"I don't think we should go on another date," he said. "Or kiss each other again."
The heart entangled with his began to hurt. "Why not?"
He braced his back against the bench, but kept his eyes on hers. "Because this celibacy thing isn't easy, and kissing you makes me want to give it up." He pulled a hand through his hair. "And you're not like the other women I've dated. You don't just fall into bed with every cowboy who comes your way. You're saving yourself for the right guy."
And you might be him, she wanted to say. "People can date without sleeping together."
He laughed, a bit sardonically. "I can't. And besides we live together. Our rooms are a thin wall apart." Quickly his laughter faded. "If we made love, you'd only end up getting hurt. Dating isn't worth the risk."
Windy bristled. "My virginity isn't a disease, Sky. It's a choice. The way your celibacy is. And we're both capable of spending time together without making love." She wanted to date him, explore his texture, his masculine scent, his exotic flavor. And she wanted him to wonder if he was falling in love with her—to think of her as more than a forbidden sexual partner. "Sex doesn't have to be a part of dating or getting to know someone. Maybe it's time you learned how to have a relationship with a woman without taking her to bed first."
"Oh, this is just great." Clearly agitated, he tossed his hands in the air. "Now you're turning this into one of your psychology lessons."
She crossed her arms. "I am not."
"Yes, you are. And it's a dangerous lesson, Windy. Because you want to pretend this is the fifties or something, and we can hold hands and neck at the front door without going any further." His cloudy gaze bore into hers. "I'm not built that way. And I'm too damn attracted to you to put myself through that kind of agony. It's all or nothing with me, honey."
Windy closed her eyes, gulped some air, then opened them. She had never been so confused in her life. Here she was encouraging Sky to get involved with her, when deep down she knew he wasn't the man with whom she should want to share a life.
"I don't want to talk about this tonight," she said. "I just can't think clearly."
He tapped a finger to her chin. "Well, think about this. Regardless of what you say, if we started touching each other all the time, we'd end up in bed. And believe me, next time I'd do a lot more than kiss you." He moved his finger to her lips, traced them longingly, then pulled back. "And you're the type of girl who would want a commitment from the man she's sleeping with. And I'm not the sort of guy who could give you anything more than good and tender sex."
Windy swallowed. Good and tender sex sounded almost romantic coming from him. But to an extent, he was right. If they continued to date, they probably would end up in bed together. She wouldn't allow it to happen out of sheer lust, though. She would only sleep with a man she loved. And loving him was possible. Her heart had already made that deduction.
"So we're back to being roommates," she said. And she was back to helping a troubled man and setting him free.
Sky nodded. "Yeah."
I'll fight falling in love with him, she decided. I'll be his friend, but I won't allow myself to ache for him, or dream about him at night. Windy straightened her spine. She would find the right man someday—one who wanted to get married and raise a houseful of children.
He gazed out at the highway. "I guess we should head home," he said, although he didn't stand to leave.
She managed a heavyhearted smile when he finally turned her way and removed the truck key from his pocket. "I had a nice time, Sky. Thank you."
"Sure."
As they walked back to the restaurant where his truck was parked, they didn't hold hands. And she knew they wouldn't kiss good-night, either. Their brief romantic interlude had ended.
* * *
Two weekends later Windy and Sky agreed to keep their horseback riding "date," although now they referred to it as a friendly outing rather than a romantic one.
Sky had hitched up a trailer and loaded a sturdy brown-and-white paint, which stood patiently while Sky taught Windy some basic horse rules. He didn't bombard her with too much information, for which she was grateful. He seemed more concerned about her just relaxing and enjoying herself.
"He's so big." She stroked the gelding's nose apprehensively. Her fear of horses had stemmed from a childhood fall, and although she hadn't been injured, she remembered the tumble had seemed like a long way down. She preferred animals who were low to the ground. Not as low as snakes, though. Something in between. Like dogs.
"Big doesn't mean dangerous, you know," Sky drawled, looking amused, his blue eyes sparkling beneath a new black Stetson.
Windy turned to look up at him, and the horse pawed the ground. Sky gave the gelding a light nudge with his elbow, and it eyed Windy as though she had corrected it. "He wants you to pet him again," he said, grinning a little devilishly. "Us big guys like to be touched."
Windy narrowed her eyes. Oh, for Pete's sake. "So now you're flirting, Sky? Two weeks ago you lectured me on how we shouldn't touch each other. It would be nice if you'd make up your mind."
"Sorry." He winced sheepishly. "If I don't flirt, I don't know how else to talk to a woman. And just because I said what I did doesn't mean I'm not going to get turned on being around you. Pretending we're not attracted to each other is kind of stupid, don't you think? At least if we drool over each other, it's honest."
"I suppose." Heat rose to her cheeks. As she brought her hand back up to pet the paint, Sky studied her fingers. Now she felt self-conscious. She was wearing freshly washed blue jeans, lizard-skin boots and a top tied at her waist. Judging from the hungry way in which Sky was eyeing her, she was certain once he was seated behind her on the horse, he'd be peering down her blouse every chance he got.
The paint was tacked up and ready to go. Since she wanted to ride double, Sky had said a saddle was out of the question. Too uncomfortable. He'd claimed a bareback pad would be more appropriate, one equipped with stirrups and a handhold.
"I'll help you mount up."
Windy reached for the handhold and slipped her boot into the stirrup. Sky clamped his hands around her waist and suddenly she felt boneless and weak.
"Are you all right?" he asked. Apparently she was melting against him.
"I'm a little nervous." She was more than nervous. Man and beast were turning her limbs to mush.
"I'll be right behind you, honey, soon as I adjust your stirrups." He hoisted her up and handed her the reins.
<
br /> She held the reins loosely and looked around. The trees didn't look so tall from this angle. In fact, some of the branches looked a might low, and she wondered how they were going to travel down the narrow dirt path without being scratched to death.
He explained how the stirrups should feel, asked her if she was comfortable, then pressed the heel of her boot down. She said something about having taken ballet lessons when she was a kid, and he chuckled. Automatically her toes pointed down again and she corrected them quickly. Toes up. Heels down. She thought her legs might cramp.
"Scoot forward, honey," he said, easing himself up behind her.
He felt good. Big and safe. His arms came forward and she leaned back a little. He was close. Real close. But she didn't mind.
The paint, registered as Mister Bear Robin, was simply called Robin. Windy liked him. He felt like a rocking horse that snorted once in a while to remind you he was flesh and bone. Sky kept his arms around her, instructing as they moved down the dirt path.
For the next two hours they enjoyed the richness of the land, the forbidden feel of each other. Windy guided Robin with the reins but was certain Sky gave the horse subtle commands with his legs. They stayed on the wider paths, on low ground and crossed a small body of water. Eventually they came to a shady area where they stopped to have their picnic.
He dismounted first, then helped her down. When her feet touched the earth she wobbled, and he held her, his Stetson creating a sun shield. They stood, gazing at each other, and he smiled and touched her cheek. "You did good, honey."
"Thanks." She gripped his arms, still weaving a little. "I don't think I'm ready to ride alone, though."
He winked. The boyish flirtation warmed her lovesick heart.
"Give yourself time."
Sky hobbled the gelding while Windy unpacked their lunch. He joined her beneath a tall eucalyptus tree, and she handed him a brown paper bag. He opened a soft drink and ate his potato chips before unwrapping the sandwich.
Windy nibbled on a rice cake and Sky winced. "That looks kinda bland."
"It's a healthy snack," she responded, thinking how good his potato chips looked. Greasy, crunchy and fattening.
SKYLER HAWK: LONE BRAVE Page 11