Can't Say No (17 page)

He stepped closer and his heat surrounded her, lured her like a candle's flame. She lifted a hand to his chest. The pounding of his heart beneath her touch gave her courage. His shirt collar was open and dark hairs glinting with golden highlights tempted her to press her fingers against flesh that burned hot beneath its rough, masculine covering. The pulse at the base of his throat beat furiously and his breathing grew uneven. But he stood patiently giving her time to make her choices, time to lead the way.

This time it was Audrey who moved closer, suddenly needing to touch her lips to the strong column of his neck. The kiss, combined with the clean scent of soap and his warm, musky scent, sent ripples of delight cascading through her. When she trembled, she put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself and found his muscles tight with the tension leashing both his considerable energy and his even more potent desire.

Shyly meeting his gaze, she found his lips parted, his eyes closed and a look of astonished pleasure on his face. She was responsible for that expression. The realization made her feel almost giddy with power and weak with relief. It gave her the much-needed boost of courage to stand on tiptoe and slant her mouth boldly across his, to run her tongue along his teeth, then dip inside when he gasped and held her close, his arms tightening possessively around her. The kiss deepened, became an urgent, breathtaking moment in time.

If the other kisses they had shared had been wonderfully exciting, this one was pure bliss, unfurling passion in gentle waves.

When the kiss ended at last, a mere pause in the promise of more, he said gently, “It's been a long time for you, hasn't it? This isn't something you do lightly.”

She nodded.

He met her embarrassed gaze with tenderness and caring. “I know what you think about my reputation, but it's been a long time for me, too. Don't worry about anything. I'll protect you.” His fingers grazed her lips as he vowed as well, “I won't rush you, sweetheart. We have the rest of the night and more, if you need it.”

“I need you now, Blake,” she whispered, wondering if he could possibly know how true those words were, if he sensed the urgency that tore at her. She needed his loving, she needed him to make her forget the past, to bring her into the present, perhaps even to hint at the future. “Now, please.”

He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. When she reached for the buttons on her blouse, he stilled her fingers. “Let me.”

One by one he slid the buttons free and as her shirt fell away from her flesh, his lips caressed, his tongue savored. Her body arched into his scorching touch, seeking a remembered pleasure, but finding something surprisingly new and better. The light burning brightly in his eyes revered her in a way that made her tremble with awe and humility that he could feel so much for her. That glint of primitive desire left her wondering how it could be that she'd never known that loving could be this gentle and yet so intense that it reached the core of her with its consuming, white-hot flames.

Clothing vanished, as if by magic, and Blake's hungry mouth and possessive touch were everywhere. He stroked. He teased. He massaged. Every caress was more devastating than the last, until she was certain she would shatter into a million pieces before he was done. It was wonderful. Thrilling. But much too much.

She was vulnerable in a way she hadn't allowed herself to be since Derek. The memory of the last time they'd been together—the shouted accusations, the cruelty, so much worse because it had come so unexpectedly—flitted through her mind and left her suddenly cold and very, very frightened.

I won't let him do this to me. I won't. Blake is different. We can be different.

With a small cry she reached out to Blake, drawing him closer, urging him to offer more of those pleasure-pain kisses that made her breasts achingly full and sensitive. She lifted his shirt and ran her fingers over smooth, hot flesh and corded muscles. In a single smooth gesture, he pulled the shirt away. She had seen that bare chest with its shadowed triangle of hair before, had felt the wicked temptation to trace its path, but it was nothing compared to the sensation of knowing that she could do just that, that for tonight at least Blake was hers.

A thumb found the hard masculine nipple buried in a whorl of hair and stroked until Blake uttered a low groan. Then she sought out its mate and repeated the process until he was trembling beneath her touch. Her hands moved on, over his flat, taut belly, to the waistband of his khaki shorts. She hesitated at the snap and could feel Blake tense in anticipation. A faint smile formed on her lips and then she kept going, carefully, consciously avoiding the hard evidence of his arousal. He closed his eyes and moaned.

“Are you trying to torture me?”

As a response, she kissed the inside of his thighs, then each knee, as her nails raked along a similar path in a lightly teasing gesture.

“You are trying to torture me,” he said in a raw-edged voice.

“I want to give everything to you. I want you to feel everything,” she whispered.

“If I feel much more, we won't leave this bed for a month. Come back up here, where I can share it with you.”

“Not yet. There's this one little place I haven't kissed yet.” She ran her tongue along the arch of his foot. “And here's one more.” Murmuring seductive little comments as she went, she worked her way back up his body until she could feel the coil of tension in his muscles, feel the heat radiating from him, see the sheen of perspiration forming on his chest.

“Enough,” he finally growled, turning her onto her back as he reached for the promised protection. Probing fingers caressed her moistness, building a new sweet tension in her. He poised on his knees over her, gazed into her eyes with a look that hinted of heaven. Then with a quick stroke, he was deep inside her, filling her, taking all the love she had to give.

He lifted her hips, penetrating more deeply in a slow mating that sent her senses reeling. She writhed under him, needing him, drawing him in, seeking the wild torrent of feelings that would split her apart. With each deep thrust, each touch of her swollen breasts, he carried her to the edge of ecstasy.

And each time she held a part of herself back, wouldn't let herself spin free into that whirlpool of sensations, couldn't give in to the shattering intimacy, the ultimate giving. There was wildness, but no abandon. She was digging her nails into his back, willing herself to let go, but it wouldn't happen. The peak was out there, just beyond her reach.

When Blake exploded inside her at last, her name a harsh cry on his lips, she felt an instant's joy at his pleasure, then an awful, numbing emptiness. She went perfectly still beneath him and turned her head into the pillow, trying to hide the tears of anger and frustration that came with the discovery that after Derek, she was incapable of loving, of sharing in the bliss.

After several minutes, she sensed that Blake was watching her. She met his troubled gaze, then glanced away, feeling an incredible, overwhelming guilt.

“This wasn't good for you, was it?” he said softly, his fingers tracing the dampness on her cheeks. The wistful, lost look in her eyes tore at his insides. How could something that had brought him so much pleasure leave her looking so terribly alone?

“Yes. It was wonderful.”

She said it valiantly, but she couldn't keep her lips from trembling. The facade scared him more than her tears. It was the beginning of a wall, a wall that could only go higher unless he battered it down now.

“Sssh.” He pressed a finger against her mouth to prevent another denial. “No lies, Audrey. There will never be any lies between us, not even the tiny white ones meant to protect.”

She pulled herself free from his embrace and clutched a pillow in front of her. She held it tightly, as though it were all she had in the world to cling to.
Hold me like that
, he wanted to shout.
Share this with me, whatever it is. Explain your pain.

But he sensed she couldn't—yet. With the intuition of a man in love and just beginning to understand the intricacies of his beloved's mind, he knew there were ghosts in this bed with them. What he didn't know was how to exorcise them.

“I'm sorry,” he apologized. “I rushed you into this.”

She lifted her chin and he grinned at the sign of stubbornness. “That's very gallant, but I'm the one who dragged you back here, remember.”

“I could have said no.”

His words brought on a tentative smile. “Don't tell me my bad habits are rubbing off on you.”

“That, my love, is not the point. I should have realized it was too soon. No matter what my feelings are for you and what I think yours are or will be for me, trust comes less quickly. You still have some scars and only time and trust are going to erase them. Making love is the ultimate test of trust.”

She bit her lip, then gazed at him through half-lowered lashes. “Do we have time?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“I mean after what happened...” Her voice trailed off uneasily.

“Don't you ever dare be ashamed or embarrassed by what happened tonight. We made love in every sense of the word. You and me.”

“But I didn't...I couldn't...”

“You will,” he reassured her, sliding his arms around her. He buried his lips in her hair and sighed. “I believe that with all my heart. You seem to think this was all your fault, but it wasn't. It was mine for pushing you into something before you were ready, for not taking more time with you. That won't happen again. I've told you before and I meant every word: we have all the time in the world to find our way together.”

He could feel the tension ease out of her as she relaxed in his embrace. Slowly, the knot in his own stomach came untied and he felt hope stir again.

“Now, I have a plan,” he announced before the reality sank in that he was holding the woman he was crazy about naked in his arms. That would change his plan dramatically and wouldn't be wise at all. She clearly viewed tonight as some sort of failure, and he had no intention of setting her up for another one.

“If we hurry,” he said, “we can pick up some food and go over to the music tent. I saw the schedule earlier and it's a jazz concert.”

“We don't have tickets.”

“I'm sure we could get them, but for what I have in mind, we won't need them.”

“I'm almost afraid to ask, but what do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking we should keep up with our family tradition.”

“Family? Tradition? We haven't known each other that long.”

“Ah, but the very best traditions can get started in no time.”

“And what exactly is this tradition of ours?”

“A picnic under the stars, of course.”

“Do you have something in particular against the food in restaurants?”

“Not at all. Many restaurants have very fine chefs. I always get them to pack my picnics.”

Laughter bubbled up and that haunted look left Audrey's eyes at last. “I see. It's the confinement you don't like. Walls, ceilings, things that keep out wind and rain.”

“And stars,” he noted. “Don't forget they also keep out stars and breezes and the scent of pine. Now, you just think about that, while I take my shower and get dressed. Then I'll go find us the best meal in Aspen, while you get ready.”

Filled with renewed energy, he jumped out of the rumpled bed and headed for the shower, just as Audrey inquired with an unexpected edge of irritation, “Is there any point in my arguing?”

He stopped just inside the bathroom and stared back at her, puzzled by the hint of exasperation he'd heard. “Do you want to?”

She chuckled then and threw up her hands in a gesture of resignation. “I suppose not. It was just token resistance. Sometimes this assertiveness kick of mine gets out of control.”

“You can practice on me all you like, just be sure to give me a clue when you're really serious. I'd hate to have you slam me over the head with a bottle of my cabernet sauvignon, just because we got our signals crossed.”

“Unfortunately, sometimes I'm not so sure myself. I'll have to work on that. It'd be a shame to tell you no, when I mean yes.”

“You've got that right,” he said, grinning wickedly. He closed the bathroom door, then opened it again. “Care to join me in the shower?”

“And miss this gourmet picnic?”

“Right. Priorities are important. Picnic first, a togetherness shower later.” He winked at her. “Count on it.”

“T
his isn't like any picnic I ever saw,” Audrey said as she pulled two outrageously expensive, fine bone china plates from a picnic hamper that was so cumbersome and heavy that even Blake had struggled to carry it from the car.

After carefully depositing the plates on the blanket, she held up a fork and examined it in the mauve shadows of twilight. “Sterling silver, huh? Whatever happened to plastic?”