Dance to the Piper (16 page)

He'd once wondered if she were a witch. The thought returned now, as what rose between them was all hellsmoke and temptation. There was nothing easy about her now, nothing light and simple. The passion that swirled around him seemed as complex and dangerous as Eve or the serpent who had dared her.

Desire clawed at him, fierce and heartless. He wanted to take her quickly, instantly, where they stood, living only for the moment, no strings, no promises. It would be better for her, better for him, if he did.

Then she murmured his name with a sound as soft and sweet as an evening breeze.

His hands gentled. He couldn't resist it. His mouth softened. He couldn't prevent it. There would come a time when he would hurt her. But tonight was special. He thought of nothing but her, not the past, not the future. Tonight he would give as much as he could, take as much as he dared. And perhaps he could give to himself, as well.

Gently he brushed the straps from her shoulders, and the brilliant silk slithered down to cling tentatively to her breasts. As if she sensed his change of mood, she went very still. Was she so willing to absorb his moods? He hoped for her sake she had some defenses left.

With a tenderness that surprised him more than it did her, he skimmed his lips over her bare shoulders, taking in the texture, as smooth as the silk, and her scent, just as tantalizing. She suddenly seemed so small, so fragile, so young. After a moment's hesitation, he brought his lips back to merge with hers.

She felt the change in him. The tug-of-war that always seemed to rage inside him seemed to cease. Her own open heart was ready to take him in.

She stroked carefully, pleased with the long, hard lines of his body. Though her breathing was no longer steady, she allowed her lips to nibble and tease only, to give him time to accept what was happening between them. He would fight it. She was nearly certain he would deny it, but his feelings were guiding him. Willing, pliant, they both moved to the bed.

She knew her body too well to feel awkward. Her hips were narrow, her legs long, her torso just a shade too thin. She was built like a dancer and didn't question it, just as she didn't question his cautious, careful exploration.

The camisole slipped off and was tossed aside. When his hands touched her skin, she merely sighed and let sensation rule. With her eyes half closed, she could see the dark, bronzed sweep of his hair as it brushed over her. She could feel her heart racing, pounding. Then his tongue traced over her nipple and her body contracted with a new, dizzying surge of pleasure.

She moved with him, as though the choreography between them had been long since plotted. Action and reaction, move and countermove. For Maddy it was as effortless and natural as breathing.

Wherever his desire took him, wherever his needs led, she was waiting, willing. He'd never experienced anything, anyone, like her. Her body sizzled with heat. He could feel the pulses throb wherever he touched, whenever he tasted. He'd never known anyone so open to loving, so free and uninhibited. When she unhooked his slacks and drew them down, her touch on his flesh was honest, generous, as though they'd known, touched and taken from each other since time began.

His own pulse was raging. She found it in the crook of his elbow and murmured as she pressed her lips against it. When he was naked, she looked at him with frank appreciation. With an easy smile, a gentle laugh, she gathered him close, embracing him with both passion and affection. A shudder rippled through him, leaving him dazed, confused and aching for her.

"Kiss me again," she murmured. When he looked, he saw her eyes half closed, with that tawny, feline look that shaded them so unexpectedly. "I love what happens to me when I'm kissing you."

She brought his face close and let herself be swept away.

"I've wanted you to touch me," she said against his lips. "Sometimes I'd imagine what it would be like to have your hands on me. Here." Nearly purring, she guided his hand. "And here. I can't get enough." She arched under him like a bow. "I don't think I'll ever get enough."

Something was slipping away from him—the control he kept tightly locked on his emotions. He couldn't afford to give her his heart, couldn't trust her with the power that went with the gift. Instead, he could give her the passion she sought and accepted so beautifully.

He pulled the silk pants off her, watching as they glided erotically over her flesh. The wisp that she wore beneath slid down and was discarded. Suddenly, so suddenly he couldn't mark the change, he was beyond being sensible, beyond being reasonable. Desire for her, for everything she was, everything she offered, clawed through his system. Perhaps this wasn't the kind of passion he'd been prepared for, but it raged through him, too strong and real to be harnessed. With her honesty and her zest for life, she'd begun this journey. He wouldn't be merely a passenger; here they would meet one to one. He would finally set free the needs she'd aroused in him from the first.

He forgot gentleness, so that when his mouth crushed hers it was with rough desperation. His hands, always so careful, raced over her until she was writhing and murmuring mindlessly beneath him. With each movement, each sigh, his heart thudded faster, pounding in his brain in a beat that somehow sounded like her name. Without hesitation she wrapped around him, and he took her. He heard a moan low in her throat before his own breath caught.

She was so warm, so unbelievably soft and welcoming. He struggled to regain that edge of control as her body began to move, graceful as a waltz, erotic as any primitive rite. He moved above her, wanting to see what the feel of him did to her. Pleasure shuddered over her face, but her eyes stayed open and on his.

She trembled, and the bedspread slithered through her fingers as she gripped it. Such power, such strength. Nothing she'd ever experienced could match it. If she'd left the world she'd known, she felt no need to return to it. Here, she could remain here, while centuries flew by.

Then they were tangled tightly as the storm plucked them both up and threw them together. Her body tensed, shivering on the edge before the release came in floods of unspeakable pleasure.

She would take the moon and the stars he offered. Maddy wrapped her arms around him and knew she would wait until he offered himself, as well.

She was gone when he woke up. Reed felt the loss swiftly, sharply, when he turned toward where she'd slept and found the bed beside him empty. From the living room, the stereo that had never been switched off droned out the Sunday-morning news as he lay back and explored the feeling of emptiness.

Why should he feel empty? He'd spent an exciting night with an exciting woman, and now she'd gone on her way. That was what he'd wanted. That was the way the game was played. Throughout the night they had given each other comfort, warmth and passion. Now the sun was up and it was over. He should be grateful she took it all so casually that she could slip out the door without even a goodbye.

Why should he feel empty? He couldn't afford to regret that she wasn't there to give him a sleepy smile and snuggle against him. He was the one who knew how transient and shallow relationships really were. He should admire her for being honest enough to acknowledge that what had passed between them during the night had been nothing more than mutual physical release. There had been no pledges given, no pledges asked for, just a few hours of mindless pleasure that required no excuses or explanations.

Why should he feel so empty?

Because she was gone, and he wanted to hold her.

Swearing, Reed pushed himself up in bed. As he raked a hand through his hair, he spotted a pool of pink silk on the floor beside the bed.

But she was gone. Reed tossed aside the sheet and got out of bed to pick up the slacks he'd drawn slowly down Maddy's legs the night before. Even Maddy couldn't get far without them. He was still holding them when he heard his front door open. Reed tossed the slacks over the back of the chair beside the bed, then reached for a robe.

He found her in the kitchen, setting a brown grocery bag on the counter.

"Maddy?"

She let out a muffled squeal and jumped back. "Reed!" With a hand to her heart, she closed her eyes a moment. "You scared me to death. I thought you were sleeping."

And he'd thought she was gone. Cautious, he held himself back. "What are you doing?"

"I went out to get breakfast."

He didn't feel empty any longer. But even as the pleasure came, so did the wariness. "I thought you'd left."

"Don't be silly. I wouldn't just leave." She combed her fingers through hair that hadn't yet seen a brush that morning. "Why don't you get back in bed? I'll have this put together in a minute."

"Maddy…" He took a step forward. Then his gaze slid slowly down her body. "What are you wearing?"

"Like it?" Laughing, she caught the hem of his shirt in her fingers and twirled around. "You have excellent taste. Reed. I was very fashionable."

His shirt hung loose over her shoulders, skimmed her thighs and made her look ridiculously attractive. "Is that one of my ties?"

She pressed her lips together to hold back a chuckle as she toyed with the thin black silk she'd used to secure the shirt at the waist. "It was all I could find. Don't worry, I can have it pressed."

Her legs were long and smooth and bare. He looked at them again and shook his head. "You went out like that?"

"Nobody looked twice," she assured him, so easily he thought she probably believed it. "Look, I'm starving." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with an easy affection that had his pulse thudding. "Get back in bed and I'll bring this in in a minute."

Because he needed a minute to adjust, he obliged her. She wasn't gone, Reed thought as he sat back against the pillows. She was here, in his kitchen, fixing breakfast as though it were the most natural thing in the world. It pleased him. It worried him. He wondered what he was going to do about her.

"I've got extra whipped cream if we need it," Maddy said as she walked in with a tray.

Reed stared at the breakfast she'd fixed as she scooted onto the bed and set the tray between them. "What is that?"

"Sundaes," she told him, dipping a forefinger into a mound of whipped cream. As she laid it on her tongue, she let out a luxurious sigh of pleasure. "Strawberry sundaes."

"Strawberry sundaes," he repeated. "For breakfast? Is this the same Maddy O'Hurley who worries constantly about nutrition and calories?"

"Ice cream's a dairy product," she reminded him as she offered a spoon. "The berries are fresh. What more do you need?"

"Bacon and eggs?"

"Much too much fat and cholesterol—especially since it doesn't taste this good. Anyway, I'm celebrating." She dipped into her bowl.

"Celebrating what?"

Their eyes met quickly and held. Then she seemed to sigh. How could he not know? And because he didn't, how could she explain? "You look wonderful. I feel wonderful. It's Sunday and the sun's shining. That should be enough." Maddy plucked a strawberry out of his bowl and offered it to him. "Go ahead. Live dangerously."

He closed his lips over the berry, drawing the tips of her fingers into his mouth briefly. "And I thought you subsisted on alfalfa sprouts and wheat germ."

"I do most of the time. That's why this is so great." She let the ice cream rest cool on her tongue and closed her eyes. "Usually I jog on Sunday mornings."

Reed sampled the ice cream himself. "Jog?"

"Only three or four miles," she said with a shrug.

"Only."

She licked the back of her spoon clean. "But today I'm being decadent."

He skimmed a hand along her knee. "Are you?"

"Absolutely. I'll pay for it tomorrow, so it has to be good."

"Did you plan to stay here and be decadent?"

"Unless you'd rather I go."

He linked his fingers with hers in an uncomplicated gesture that would have surprised him if he'd realized he'd done it. "No, I don't want you to go."

The smile lighted her face. "I can be very decadent."

"I'm counting on it."

Maddy swirled her finger through the whipped cream, then slowly, very slowly, licked it off. "You might be shocked." When she dipped again, Reed took her wrist, then brought the cream and her finger to his own mouth.

"You think so?" He felt her pulse jump as he sucked lightly on her fingertips. "Why don't we see?" Picking up the tray, he set it beside the bed. Her eyes were huge, her body aching, when he looked at her again. "I wondered how you'd look in the morning."

Tilting her head, she lifted a brow. "How do I look?"

"Fresh." With the lightest of touches he stroked her cheek. "Just a bit mussed. Appetizing."

She caught her tongue between her teeth. "I think I like the appetizing best."

"You know, Maddy, you never asked if you could borrow my shirt."

Humor danced in her eyes again, but she answered very seriously. "No, I didn't, did I? That was rude."

"I want it back." He hooked his fingers in the neck of the shirt and drew her closer. "Now."

"Now?" Fast and hot, anticipation rippled through her. "I suppose you want the tie, as well."

"I certainly do."

"I guess you're entitled," she murmured. Kneeling, she loosened the knot, slipped the silk off and handed it to him. She reached for the buttons, hesitated, then began to unfasten them. Her gaze stayed steady on his as the shirt fell open to reveal a thin panel of flesh. Then she smiled as she let the material slide from her shoulders. Without any self-consciousness she stayed as she was while he looked his fill, then took the shirt by the collar and held it out, kneeling in the center of the bed with sunlight streaming over her skin.

"This is yours, I believe."

He brushed the shirt aside, rising on his knees to cup her shoulders in his hands. "I'm becoming fonder of what's inside." He nipped at her chin as his hands slid down over her. "You have the most incredible body. Hard, soft, compact, limber." Compelled, he drew away just to look at her. "I wonder if—Maddy, what's that you're wearing?"

"What?" A little dazed, she followed his gaze downward. "Oh, that's a G-string, of course. Haven't you ever seen one?"