An Innocent Affair

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An Innocent Affair Page 8

by Kim Lawrence


  He had a body straight out of a fantasy. She swallowed hard as he knelt on the bed. ‘Beauty’ was a word, but Alex was more than that—much more. He was the essence of all things male. And he’s mine, she thought gloatingly.

  Arms crossed, she pulled her bra top ever her head. Free from their Lycra imprisonment, her breasts swayed gently. She smiled as his eyes watched the undulations. Her heart was pounding wildly as she took hold of his wrists and led his hands to the twin warm mounds of flesh.

  Alex’s expression was almost blank as he looked from her face back to his wrists, imprisoned by an elegant pair of hands. She could almost hear the sound of something in him snapping—although exploding would have been closer to the mark.

  His fists opened and his hands accepted the gift she offered. A strange cry ripped from his throat as his mouth came down on hers, driving her back against the mattress. His mouth wasn’t gentle; it was hot and hungry. His tongue plunged repeatedly into the warm moistness of her mouth in a deliberate parody of a more intimate invasion of her body. And all the while his mouth plundered hers his hands were moving over her body with feverish haste, moulding her flesh to his needs.

  When his mouth moved to her taut, aching breasts, tasting, suckling, her back arched and she cried out without being sure what it was she so desperately needed. She couldn’t see any way it would be possible to assuage the hunger he had awoken.

  He was astride her, his knees braced either side of her hips. He was too far away, she thought fretfully—too far.

  He leant back and deliberately placed the heel of one hand against the soft mound at the apex of her legs. Her head thrashed wildly against the pillow and her body pushed rhythmically against his hand. His fingers slowly curled until he could feel the moist heat through the fine fabric of her pants.

  ‘How do you get these off over the plaster?’ he asked thickly. Before she could reply she heard the sound of tearing fabric. ‘I applied a bit of lateral thinking.’

  Hope had never heard brute force and impatience called this before, but she didn’t pursue the issue—especially as he had begun to stroke the satiny inner aspect of her thighs.

  ‘Alex…’ she moaned.

  ‘What, love?’ The fine tremors that intermittently racked his powerful frame communicated themselves to her through his fingertips. The skin was drawn tightly over his flushed face; his eyes appeared almost black. He looked as if he was struggling against restraints of his own making.

  When his fingers explored deeper, moving delicately into the warm, wet valley between her legs, she opened her mouth to cry out, but the sound of her voice was lost in the recesses of his warm mouth.

  ‘Don’t fight it, angel.’ The erotic throb of his voice was against the base of her throat. The new growth on his jaw abraded her soft skin. ‘You like this, don’t you?’

  ‘It’s good,’ she gasped. ‘I don’t think I can bear it, Alex!’ It was delicate, relentless torture. All there was in her world were the sensations that were building inside her trembling body. Even if she hadn’t been tied down by the cast she wouldn’t have been able to move; her lower body was paralysed by warm, liquid heat.

  ‘Hold on.’ She realised he meant it literally as he placed her hands against the bars of the iron bedstead. ‘I like watching you,’ he confided huskily, his eyes fixed in fascination on her flushed face, her parted lips and half-closed eyes. ‘You can’t hide anything from me.’

  Her body continued to move restlessly under the delicate expertise of his hands. ‘Do you want me to?’

  ‘No.’

  It sounded to Hope as if his breathing had gone just as haywire as her own. His big body slid down beside her, and the provocative thrust of his rigid arousal against her thigh made her bite her lips and moan his name softly as a sensual thrill lanced through her.

  He was sliding lower, his tongue gliding slowly over her warm, smooth skin, drawing a line down her abdomen. The small indentation above her navel seemed to fascinate him. Hope’s hands tightened on the bedhead as he paused to explore with wet, darting forays. One hand moved to one smooth hip, and she felt impelled to apologise huskily.

  ‘I’m sorry—the cast. I’m a bit like a stranded whale.’

  He lifted his head and looked consideringly at her supine form. With shocking deliberation he moved both hands between her legs, until the tips of his fingers touched the soft protective thatch. She gave a sigh of relief when he parted her legs. She couldn’t swallow; her throat was too dry.

  ‘No, there’s no resemblance at all,’ he contradicted. ‘Ingenuity is one of my strong points. I won’t let this—’ he touched the cast ‘—spoil things for you.’

  ‘I was thinking about you.’ She applied her tongue to her dry lips.

  ‘Angel, nothing short of divine intervention would spoil things for me at this point.’

  ‘Alex,’ she breathed in shock, ‘you can’t do that!’

  ‘I can.’ He sounded very confident about this.

  ‘You can’t want to do that!’

  ‘I do.’ His firm assertion silenced her feeble protest, and after the initial rejection she began to relax. It was electrifying, and the erotic friction sent her swiftly spiralling out of control. The rhythmic lash of his tongue instilled a primitive urge to fight for possession. She needed him to take her completely. In a husky, faltering voice she told him this—she screamed it as her clawed fingers tangled in his hair.

  Alex’s taut smile was filled with male triumph. He wanted to extend her need to its ultimate limit, even though doing so was a form of torture. To feel her shudder and frantically writhe with want, and to know it was his name on her lips, was more arousing than anything he’d ever experienced.

  He was sure this level of intimacy was new to her. But this wasn’t the time to wonder at this unexpected discovery.

  Alex knelt between her splayed legs and pulled her across his steel thighs. He distributed her weight more evenly as his hands scooped her buttocks. She didn’t need to move her injured leg; it was firmly anchored beside his hip. This display of strength was a lot more than impressive; it was primitively arousing.

  Tongue caught between her teeth, Hope looked at the point where his sex nudged the triangle of damp thatch between her legs. Hot need flooded through her, and just as she thought she’d die from sheer want he slid forward and up, sheathing himself inside her.

  He’d positioned her so that he could set the pace, but she could and did urge him on with her strong pelvic muscles and hoarse but enthusiastic cries of encouragement. She sensed he was holding himself back, and she had no intention of allowing that. She wasn’t fragile; she didn’t want tentative.

  ‘Is this what you want?’ he growled.

  ‘Yes, oh, yes!’ she cried as he buried himself up the hilt. She greedily absorbed him. Her hands fought for purchase against the glistening skin of his back. Her head fell against his shoulder as he continued to thrust into her. Her laboured gasps scalded the skin of his neck as the pressure built.

  When it came, the release shook Hope deeply. The wave of delight invaded each separate nerve-ending in her body. Her body arched backwards and, head thrown back, she cried his name. Her cries were almost instantly drowned by Alex’s gratified groan, and feeling him pulsing within her brought tears of emotional fulfilment to her eyes.

  Once she’d started the tears wouldn’t seem to stop. Alex’s alarm was only brief, and then he appeared to instinctively recognise them for what they were, and he was content to soothe her body until only the occasional hiccough shook her.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She couldn’t put into words how profoundly the experience had touched her.

  ‘I think it was a compliment.’ He touched the dampness on her cheek.

  ‘It was.’ She placed her cheek against his chest and felt the heavy thud of his heartbeat.

  She did eventually sleep, and when she woke up Alex was propped up on one arm, watching her. His expression was enigmatic but promising.

  �
�Hello.’

  Alex caught his breath. Where he’d been half anticipating wariness and caution, she was all uncomplicated warmth.

  ‘Hello,’ he responded huskily. She stretched lithely, hooking one arm above her head and brushing tangled strands of hair from her sleepy eyes. He’s never seen a woman with less artifice—strange, when she made her living from creating an illusion.

  ‘How long have you been watching me?’

  ‘Long enough to know you sleep like a baby.’

  ‘I’ve got a clear conscience.’

  He didn’t respond to this light challenge, although he did reflect that conscience depended on personal standards. He couldn’t believe she was this uncomplicated. People just weren’t.

  The sheet had slipped to reveal the upper slopes of her magnolia-pale breasts. She had the most perfect skin he’d ever seen. One rosy areola peeked cheekily out above the white cotton. He rubbed his finger along the fascinating area and felt the pinkness ruche under his touch.

  ‘You know all my weak spots. I don’t know any of yours,’ she complained huskily.

  He had one big weak spot, and it stood five-eleven in bare feet. Vulnerability wasn’t something that made Alex happy, but sliding his hand beneath the covers to touch Hope did. If a man had to be confronted with dilemmas, he reflected, this wasn’t such a bad one.

  Alex pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist and moved with devastating effect along the inner aspect of her arm.

  ‘Alex…?’

  ‘Mmm…’

  ‘You get a lot of pleasure from foreplay, don’t you?’ That much had been deliciously obvious the night before.

  He lifted his head. ‘I get a lot of pleasure giving you pleasure. Are you trying to tell me you didn’t—’

  ‘Hell, no.’ She quashed that theory swiftly. ‘The thing is, sometimes a person can feel a bit… I’m trying to be delicate, here, but it’s not easy. A person can feel a bit urgent. Actually, the moment I opened my eyes and saw you I wanted… Are you laughing at me?’

  ‘Moi?’ he said, all smug innocence. ‘Go on,’ he urged. ‘This is fascinating.’

  ‘You’re a rat-faced, smug—’ She broke off and gave a sigh of defeat. Alex looked startled as she grabbed his hand. ‘This is how I feel,’ she said, leading his hand to the slick heat that indicated the degree of urgency that filled her. A voice somewhere told her she’d become totally wanton and shameless, but she was unrepentant. ‘I want you inside me—now.’ A low moan vibrated in her throat as his fingers curled against her parted sex.

  ‘That can be arranged.’

  ‘You beautiful man, you,’ she sighed. ‘I love you.’

  They were seated at the kitchen table eating scrambled eggs when Adam entered the room. He stood stamping his feet on the flagstone floor.

  ‘It’s bloody freezing out there—’ He stopped mid-sentence when he finally noticed that Hope wasn’t alone. After one slack-jawed instant her brother-in-law recovered his poise and continued to peel off his gloves. ‘Is that coffee I smell?’

  ‘Help yourself,’ Hope said, steeling herself for the comments she knew would follow. Alex hadn’t betrayed so much as a flicker of discomfiture. She watched enviously as he shovelled another forkful of egg into his mouth. There’s absolutely no reason to feel self-conscious, she told herself. But the awkwardness persisted.

  ‘Car broke down, did it?’ her brother-in-law asked, leaning against the work surface with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand.

  ‘No. Do you have a problem with that?’ Alex placed his elbows on the table and looked squarely at his friend. There was more curiosity than hostility in his voice.

  ‘Why should he?’ Hope interrupted tartly at this juncture.

  She wasn’t even prepared to field Anna’s inevitable questions about Alex’s intentions, without having Adam start! How the hell am I supposed to reply, she wondered bleakly, when I don’t know myself? In Alex’s own words, he was only concerned with the here and now. That didn’t sound like the basis of a meaningful relationship.

  Both men simultaneously shook their heads at her lack of insight into male protective instincts. She could almost feel the bond developing as they exchanged looks. Men! she thought with disgust.

  ‘The eggs look good,’ Adam observed.

  ‘Well, you can’t have any,’ Hope said with scant regard for hospitality. ‘And I know you’re working the conversation around to a rash of those awful one-liners of yours, so I’m warning you…’

  ‘I’m gone.’ Adam placed the coffee cup on the table. ‘I’ve banned Anna from driving today, Hope, so I’m afraid you’ll be on your lonesome.’

  ‘I think I’ll cope. You really must have got Anna well and truly under the thumb if she lets you lay down the law.’ It didn’t sound like the Anna she knew.

  ‘The trick is letting her think it was her idea,’ Adam replied with a grin. ‘I think you’ll need a hand to dig out your four-wheel drive, Alex.’

  ‘I’d appreciate that.’

  ‘If you saw Alex’s car then you knew he was here,’ Hope realised, detecting a certain inconsistency. ‘You were…’

  ‘Winding you up?’ her brother-in-law suggested. ‘Like a lamb to the slaughter, Hope,’ he observed, chuckling as he opened the kitchen door.

  ‘And you knew he already knew,’ she accused Alex indignantly. He didn’t appear to have any trouble deciphering this tortuous statement.

  ‘The Land Rover is parked about six feet from the door. Adam couldn’t have gotten in without falling over it,’ he pointed out with imperturbable calm. ‘You did say it didn’t matter if Adam knew I’d spent the night,’ he reminded her.

  ‘It shouldn’t,’ she muttered, eyeing him resentfully. The insensitivity of the male species in general was staggering, she reflected.

  ‘But it does. Would you have preferred I’d slipped away earlier?’ The intensity of his gaze made her uncomfortable.

  ‘No.’ Though in some ways it would have been easier, she acknowledged. On balance it was preferable to face the speculation of her ever-loving family rather than have him slip furtively away as though they’d done something to be ashamed of. ‘This all feels a little strange. I’m not used to breakfasting with men.’

  The expressive quirk of one darkly defined brow brought a flurry of panic. ‘I usually kick them out the night before.’ With a laugh she lessened the impact of her thoughtless confession. Ironically he was far more likely to believe the joke than the truth.

  ‘Shall we do this again?’

  ‘Eat breakfast?’

  He frowned impatiently at her flippancy.

  ‘What am I supposed to say, Alex?’

  ‘Yes or no.’

  ‘It’s that simple?’ It probably was for him. There was no conflict for him, no emotional complications. He was just satisfying a basic appetite.

  ‘That’s up to us.’

  And that told her absolutely nothing, she thought with frustration. Was it an invitation to establish some sort of official relationship, or a warning not to let things get out of hand? Talk about ambiguous! But it was a bit late to start loving defensively—just love, Hope, she told herself recklessly. Love, and live with the consequences.

  ‘Yes.’ He hadn’t actually appeared to be awaiting her verdict with bated breath, but he did now look moderately satisfied.

  ‘I can’t stay tonight. I’ve got a guest.’

  She pushed aside the irrational wave of rejection that swept over her. ‘Fine,’ she said calmly. Be adult, Hope, keep it low-key.

  ‘I’ll call in about nine to check things are all right.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘Accept help graciously, Hope.’

  ‘That’ll be the day,’ she responded, with a spark of humour. She was going to have to do something fairly drastic about this obsessional craving she was fast developing for his company.

  ‘I’ll chop some more logs before I go. I noticed the store was getting low. Unless you prefer to wade
through a foot of snow to do it yourself?’

  ‘Look,’ she said, placing her forefingers at the corners of her mouth and tugging her lips into a grimace. ‘I’m smiling graciously.’

  He was early. That was the first thought that entered her head when she heard the banging at the back door. Heart pounding, she hurried across the flagstoned floor, cursing her crutches. She fumbled to lift the latch and tried to subdue the breathless smile of welcome that her features insisted on forming.

  ‘Lloyd!’ The anticlimax was intense. Foolishly she felt like sitting on the cold floor and sobbing like a baby. ‘Whatever are you doing here?’

  ‘I knew you’d be mad with me, but can I come in? I had to leave the car about two miles down the lane. To be truthful, honey, if I’d known that you hailed from the back of beyond, I’d have stayed in my centrally-heated hotel room—guilty conscience or no.’ He blew on his bare fingers and his breath billowed white in the icy air.

  ‘You’d better come in.’

  ‘Thank God for that. I thought you were going to kick me out into the snow.’

  ‘The thought has some appeal,’ she admitted drily.

  ‘Jeez, your poor leg,’ he said as she hobbled across the room. ‘You’ve not been having a good month, have you?’

  ‘Not so as you’d notice.’ A smile hovered on her lips—things had been looking up recently.

  ‘What can I say? I owe you big time.’

  ‘Just so long as you know it,’ Hope responded tartly. ‘Put your coat by the Aga; it’s drenched,’ she instructed as he shrugged off his padded coat. Even without the coat Lloyd was a big, chunky sort of man. He was handsome in a beaky-nosed, rugged sort of way. ‘Didn’t you listen to the weather forecast?’

  ‘Sure, but I didn’t think you lived at the end of a dirt track. Did you know there are four gates across it?’ he asked as he laid his coat across the back of a chair.

 

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