After Dark (36 page)

    One good thing had come from the
shooting- Will had been spending more time with his father, and the two
were growing closer with each passing day. Only yesterday, she had walked
past Johnny Mack's room, where father and son were playing chess, and she
had overheard Will say, "I'm glad you're my father and not Kent."
She had gone straight to the bathroom and cried.

    To make matters worse, the sexual
tension between Johnny Mack and her hadn't lessened any simply because
he was recuperating from surgery. She suspected that his mood would improve
if he could release some of his pent-up energy. She knew for a fact that if
she could be with him, make love with him and fall asleep in his arms, she
could finally get some much-needed rest.

    "No time like the present,"
she mumbled to herself, as she hopped off the bed and rummaged around in
her closet, looking for just the right thing to wear. Hmm-mm. What did a
lady wear to a seduction? Ah-ha! She had found it-a lightweight, gold
silk robe. She had bought the item on a whim, loving the look and the feel
of it. But she'd never worn it. There hadn't been an appropriate occasion.
Not until now.

    Lane hurriedly stripped out of
her cotton slacks and blouse, then removed her underwear and slipped into
the robe. After belting it tightly, she left her room and walked down the
hall. Although Johnny Mack was able to be up and about, the doctor insisted
that he get plenty of rest, so he often stayed in his room until ten or after
most mornings. She opened his door and peered inside. With the wooden
window shutters closed, the room lay in semidarkness. Pinpricks of
sunlight escaping from between the slats spotlighted tiny, dancing
dust particles in the air.

    Wearing only a pair of old, faded
jeans, Johnny Mack lay sprawled across the half-canopy bed, atop the crumpled
tan sheets and striped coverlet. He rested flat on his stomach, with his
eyes closed and his breathing steady and even.

    She crept inside, and with every
step she took, she expected him to open his eyes. But he didn't. The closer
she got to the bed, the more erratic her heart beat. She felt like a brazen
hussy. Attempting a seduction was totally out of character for her.
But that had been the old Lane, the sexually repressed Lane, the Lane
who had buried her sexual desires years ago. But this was the new Lane,
the Lane who was Johnny Mack Cahill's lover.

    As she stood beside the bed, she
gazed at this magnificent man, taking inventory from the top of his head
to the heels of his big feet. Broad shoulders. Wide back, marred only by
the healing scar left by the surgery to remove the bullet that had almost
killed him. Large, muscular arms. Slim hips. Tight butt. And long, long
legs. His skin was naturally dark, but recent days spent in the sun by the
pool had burnished his flesh to a light copper shade.

    He was a beautiful man.

    There had been a time when he had
been a beautiful boy, but back then his beauty had been, as the old saying
goes, only skin deep. He had been a wild, untamed young man filled with
anger and rage and a need to strike out at everyone around him. He'd done
some almost unforgivable things in the past. But she had forgiven
him-always. Because she had loved him with the foolish ardor of a teenager.
The fact that he had been the town bad boy had simply added to his appeal.
As an adult she had come to realize that women were usually drawn to the
rascals, the rogues, the hell-raisers. The men who beat their chests and
roared at the top of their lungs. As a general rule, such men made unforgettable
lovers, but bad life mates.

    Lane eased to the very edge of the
bed and lifted her hand over his back. Dare she touch him and arouse the
sleeping beast?

    Johnny Mack was still Johnny Mack,
and yet he was a very different man today. The outward beauty went beyond
the surface. This wonderful man lying before her was as beautiful inside,
in his heart and soul, as he was in physical appearance. He had matured
into a fine man, into a decent human being. Although the untamed elements
of his personality still existed, he was no longer unredeemable.

    When she leaned closer, her hand
within inches of caressing him, Johnny Mack flipped over, grabbed her
and tumbled her onto the bed with him. Lane cried out, startled by his
lightning-fast maneuver. Pinning her hands above her head, he straddled
her hips.

    "I thought you were asleep,"
she said breathlessly as she gazed up into his black eyes.

    "And I was beginning to wonder
just how long you were going to stand there before you made your move.''
He gazed down at her and smiled, that wicked, bone-melting grin that had
been the ruin of many a good woman.

    "What move?" She playfully
twisted beneath him.

    He laughed, a low, throaty chuckle.
"Don't play innocent with me." Still gripping her wrists with one
hand, he reached down with his other hand to loosen the belt of her silk robe.

    Lane sucked in her breath when her
robe slipped just a fraction, parting in the middle enough to reveal a
line of flesh from chest to belly button. Johnny Mack lowered his hips so
that his erection pressed against her mound.

    He groaned. "Where's Lillie
Mae?"

    "At the grocery store."
Lane wiggled, and her robe opened another couple of inches, enough so
that the material barely covered her nipples.

    "Then, we're alone in the house?"

    "All alone."

    He chuckled again and bent his head
to kiss her. Demanding. A release of barely constrained desire. An
eruption of need too long denied. She squirmed and bucked and moaned,
but he held her hands tightly, above her head, refusing to allow her to touch
him. And she needed to touch him. Wanted to touch him. Had to touch him or
she would lose her mind.

    When he finally released her mouth,
she sucked in air, as did he. They stared at each other, their eyes bright
with passion.

    "Let me go." She struggled,
trying to free her bound wrists. "Please, Johnny Mack. I wanted to make
love to you. I had planned to… Since you're still recuperating, I thought
I would give you pleasure without risking your getting hurt and reopening
your incision. And then you grabbed me and-"

    He silenced her with a maneuver
that created shivers deep within her. His nose shoved aside her robe
and revealed one pebble-hard nipple.' 'Look at you,'' he said, his voice
thick with desire. "Your nipples are puckered and begging for my mouth."

    "You have to be careful. You
aren't completely recovered yet."

    Using his index finger, he traced
a line from her throat to her navel. She drew in a deep breath. Just the
merest touch and she was lost His finger slid farther, parting her robe
as it went south and exposed, inch by inch, more and more of her flesh.
When the robe parted completely and fell to either side of her body, his
hand cupped her mound, and she lifted her hips to accommodate him.

    In self-defense, before she lost
complete control, she made a bold move. "You can't make love to
me."

    "What?" His gaze met
hers, a startled expression on his face.

    "I want to make love to you.
I've never… I need to do this," she told him. "I've dreamed of looking
at and touching and tasting every inch of your body. You have no idea how
much I want to-"

    "Stop talking and start showing
me."

    With that devilish grin making
him totally irresistible, Johnny Mack released her hands, then shoved
himself up and off her. Before she could grab him, he rose to his feet
and shucked off his jeans. The sight of him standing there in all his male
glory took Lane's breath away. He was big, hard and dangerously male.
When she reached out for him, he avoided her touch, then crawled into bed
beside her and folded his arms behind his head. Pivoting around so that
she faced him, Lane saw that he was spread out before her, waiting.

    Now what? a nagging inner voice
asked. This is what you wanted, what you've dreamed of. He's yours to do
with as you will. A shudder of pure sexual energy surged through her. She
sensed a heady feeling of power.

    Reversing their former positions,
Lane straddled his hips and lowered herself just enough to kiss him. She
started with his forehead and soon covered his face with tiny pecks. Zeroing
in on his mouth, she nibbled and sucked and finally invaded. He responded
by engaging her tongue in a damp, frenzied duel. When she ended the
kiss, she moved her lips down his chin, down his neck, over his chest and stopped
when she reached one tiny male nipple. She laved first one nipple and
then the other, while she laid her hand over one of his hairy thighs and began
caressing him. Slowly, maddeningly, she touched him everywhere.

    He lay beneath her, silent and barely
moving, but she noted that he was gripping the bedspread with both
hands. The more she kissed and touched, the hotter the fire within her
grew. She ached unbearably as moisture collected between her legs,
between the hot folds of her femininity. But she wouldn't give in* wouldn't
seek her own pleasure. Not yet. Not when the piece de resistance lay before
her. Untouched. Unconquered. Begging for her attention.

    She spread his legs and eased her
open palms down his hips. Then she brought her hands together in the center
of his body, threading her fingers through the black hair that surrounded
his jutting sex. Touching his scrotum gently, she caressed his balls all
over, then leisurely turned her attention to his penis, pumping him
slowly, rhythmically. She wet her fingertips and petted the bulbous tip,
then ran a moist streak from top to shaft.

    By his hard, deep groans, she could
tell that he was finding it difficult to remain in control. When she?
replaced her hand with her mouth, Johnny Mack's! hips came up off the bed.
To soothe him, she returned her attention to his upper body. After he
settled back down, she eased slowly, attentively south again. Several
times she repeated the back and forth, upper and lower torso torture until
she felt heady with power.

    As Lane licked his shaft, she circled
the root and slipped her hand up and down, adding just the right amount of
pressure. He grew bigger and harder. He moaned and shivered.

    "Ah, babe, you're killing
me!" He threaded his fingers through her hair, then grasped her head
and held her in place.

    She licked and sucked, bringing
him almost to the brink, then released him. Using his hand on her head, he
urged her to return to her task. And she did. Only this time she slid her mouth
from the tip to the base of his penis. With each undulating movement she
tightened her mouth. As if he were afraid she would stop, he pushed
her head back and forth, trying to take control, fucking her mouth. But
her lips, her tongue, her adoration of his sex gave her complete power
over him. And when he came, jetting his release, she savored the pleasure
she had given him.

    As she released him and licked
her lips, his animalistic groans excited her. She crawled over him and
snuggled to his side. He lifted her just enough to wrap his arm around
her.

    After kissing her forehead, he
smoothed his hand down over one breast and then the other. She shuddered
when he pinched her nipples.

    "You're a wild woman," he
said. "My wild woman."

    Bracing himself on his elbow, he
leaned over and suckled her breast. Tingles of pleasure radiated from
her nipples to her core. While he continued laving her breasts, he maneuvered
his hand down over her belly and between her thighs. Using his fingertips,
he petted her, his strokes gradually becoming more intense. Tightly
wound tension broke free, into orgasmic fragments as Lane climaxed.
Quickly. With earth-shattering intensity. As sensation after sensation
sizzled through Lane's body, Johnny Mack rose up and moved over her. While
the aftershocks still rippled within her, he thrust deeply, to the hilt.
Big. Hard. Hot.

    He possessed her completely. Leaving
no room for anything or anyone else. And Lane knew that this- being
Johnny Mack's woman-was what she had been born for.

    Will watched his parents sitting
together on the sofa and suspected they would like to be alone together.
Although he had never actually been in love himself he figured he
was old enough to know the signs. His mama and Johnny Mack were mooning
over each other, exchanging odd looks and quick little smiles. And he
realized that they were trying awfully hard not to touch each other.

    He could go up to his room and leave
them alone. He doubted they would even know he was gone. But just as he
started to get up, Johnny Mack spoke.

    "I've got cabin fever this
evening. How about since it's stopped raining, we take a walk down by the
river?"

    "Great idea," Lane replied.
"After that big supper Lillie Mae cooked, I could use a walk."

    Johnny Mack stood, held out his
hand to Lane and pulled her up onto her feet. They gazed at each other;
for a brief moment; then Lane turned to Will.

    "Want to go with us?" she
asked.

    "Nah, I think I'll watch TV.
You two go ahead."

    "If Lillie Mae gets home from
her prayer meeting before we get back, tell her not to worry, that we'll be
in the house by dark," Lane said.