Intimate Portraits (24 page)

“Autumn—”

She moved toward him, holding out
a hand. “What else do I have to do?” She caught his shoulders and looked him in
the eyes, holding her mouth up next to his.

Kiss me, you idiot.

He gave an angry exclamation
before bending down.

What started off as an impatient
gesture turned into a fierce kiss totally unlike the ones showered on her when
he found her inside the cabin after Kiki’s death. This kiss hurt her mouth and
left her helpless. His hand caught her breast and kneaded it with a discomfort
that would have made her pull away had she been capable of movement.

She couldn’t think. She was mindless,
dazed. Delirious. He did care, did want her. He couldn’t deny his need after
this.

Don’t think.

She opened her mouth and pressed
herself against him.

In the midst of her response, he
pushed her away and stepped back. “
Madre de Dios
. Don’t you see, Autumn?
Don’t you understand why you can’t love me, why we can’t do this?”

“No.”

Her voice stopped him. His chest rose
and fell with harsh, ragged breaths.

Her own lips stung, her own lungs
gasped for air. “I love you, Rennie, and you can’t change that. No matter what
you say, what you think. I've known you since I was five years old and I love
you.”

His shoulders slumped. “I didn’t…
Autumn.”

She loved that face, with its
deep-set brown eyes and the aquiline nose and the wide mouth pliant from her
kisses.

He licked his lips, screwed up
his eyes as if to make her disappear. “I’d drive you away. Sooner or later you’d
be sorry you ever thought you were in love with me. But God help me, every time
I get near you, it’s all I can do to remember how you deserve so much better
than me.”

“Rennie.” She moved into him. “Stop
belittling yourself.” Then she waited while his arms came up, inch by agonizing
inch, proving his will wasn’t strong enough to stop them. They locked around
her until she stood in her own circle of warmth. “I do love you. I meant it
when I was seventeen and I mean it now. I can’t stop loving you.”

His shoulders sagged, his head
dropped. “I’m too tired to fight you anymore. Heaven help you, because I love
you, too. I guess I always have.”

Her heart sprang and flipped.

He still tried. “I didn’t know,
couldn’t believe it when I started thinking of you like this. I didn’t want
this to happen.”

“Shhh.” She turned her face up
and they kissed, a comfortable enterprise lacking the earlier fire and urgency.

There would be no interruptions,
no second thoughts this time. She knew it and so did he. His lips and fingers
moved over her face as if memorizing each inch.

When her heart threatened to
burst, she rested her head against his chest and he laid his face against her
neck. For a long moment they held each other that way.

How strange. I can feel his
breath leaving his nostrils and entering mine, feel the blood rushing through
him like mine, feel his heart beating in time to mine, feel his flesh warming
mine. If I listen real hard, I bet I can hear his thoughts. As if we were one
person.

His hand eventually slid down,
cupping her butt, drawing her to him. He didn’t stop her when she opened her
legs to take him against her, did not stop her when she ran her hand under his
sweater. He slid her own top up, found the fastening of her bra and undid it. Her
too-small breasts spilled from the figure-enhancing binder, but he caressed one
like it was perfect.

All without haste, all without frenzy.

Because this time we’ll finish
.

As his head bent, she sighed,
arched her neck so his lips could reach its curve, pulled in her stomach so
that his fingers could slip down inside her slacks. He splayed his hand on her
stomach gingerly, afraid he’d hurt or frighten her.

As if he could. This was what she’d
wanted for years.

She unsnapped her slacks herself
so his fingertips could touch her, could slide down her belly to the curls.

“I can take them off.” Giddy with
anticipation, she tackled the zipper.

“No.” He laid a hand over hers.

“I want to take them off. Please
let me take them off.” She wriggled her hand, trying to make him release it. Her
intimate parts clamored for his attention.

“Not until we can make
arrangements to do things right.”

“Right? This is right.”

“Autumn.” His voice held back
laughter. “I don’t do this all the time. I don’t carry rubbers around with me.”

“Oh. That. What do you think took
me so long at the store?”

She would have giggled at his
shock except that she had a shrewd idea it was better not to make fun of a man
when the joke had the least connection to his sexual prowess.

“You bought condoms at the grocery
store?”

She could have sworn his body
relaxed. Was he turned off? Had she done something wrong? Been too aggressive? Taken
too much for granted?

She hurried on. “Yes. Just in
case.” She went and got them. Coming back, she closed the bedroom door in
Squeaky’s annoyed face. “I hope this is all right with you.”

“You planned this? You knew we’d
make love?”

Was he annoyed? “I hoped.”

“Autumn, I… Once we do this,
there’s no turning back.” His voice was hoarse.

“I’m sick and tired of hearing
your dire predictions about what will happen if you make love to me. Let’s do
it and worry about what happens later.”

Dark eyes flew open.

He swooped her up and laid her on
the bed. As she drew off her sweater and unzipped her slacks, he ripped off his
own clothes. While she threw back the coverlet and climbed between the sheets,
she heard fabric tear, heard a button bounce against the wall. She snuggled
down and waited.

            “What’s
taking you so long? Oh.”

He had removed Fran’s picture and
set it on the floor facing the wall.

She smothered a smile.

* * *

Rennie propped Francisco’s photo
against the wall, the back turned out. He would be damned if he let Francisco’s
likeness leer down at them when he made love to Autumn. The first time ought to
be special. He’d go slowly, do it right. Then she’d be safe from anyone like
Fran.

That was all that mattered, that
she be safe. He’d give her everything she needed because he wasn’t the same person
he once was. She deserved better, and he’d be better.

For her.

When he climbed into the bed, he
took his time adjusting the sheets before turning to her. Her hair, when he
pushed it back, smelled faintly of roses. Her eyes were clear and blue.

Who was he kidding? He’d never
been with a woman like Autumn. His two intimate relationships had both involved
women who carried too damned much emotional baggage.

One had been anxious to forget an
abusive father by making every man she met love her. She’d also tried to boost
her self-esteem by bringing everyone close to her down to her level.

The other had been determined to
put a deprived childhood far behind by climbing the rungs to monetary success
as quickly as possible and dumping anyone she feared might hold her back.

But Autumn was whole,
self-sufficient. He was unnecessary to her financially or emotionally because she
was poised, lovely, intelligent, and stable. She could have anyone she chose.

But she said she loved him, and
Autumn never lied.

Tension he hadn’t felt within him
uncoiled. Being here with her felt like finally finding himself.

He rolled into her waiting arms
and lost himself and his insecurities in the heat that surged through his body
and overwhelmed his senses.

She was so sweet. When she pulled
him against her bare skin and cradled him to her breasts, he forgot his doubts
and took his time, relearning each ridge, each bone in her face and shoulders,
before moving his tongue from her ear and running it down her neck. Tasting the
dainty breasts, the flat stomach and navel, the slick warmth that welcomed his
intrusion.

All the time she lay willingly
beneath him, spread out like a prize for his plundering. When he found her
center, she began to tremble.

He held her hips and teased her
with his tongue. Her hands in his hair tightened with each whimpering breath,
until suddenly she rose beneath him, crying out and arching her body in utter
abandonment.

He wanted to shout, to plough
triumphantly into her. But he stilled his longing and stretched out beside her until
her breathing steadied and her heartbeat calmed. When her hand found his length
and would have caressed him to breaking point, he nudged it aside and began all
over again on her. Her flesh was dewy from his success, slick from her
satisfaction.

And when he recognized her soft
whimpers from earlier, knew she was close to climax, he slipped inside her,
reveling in her tightness, her heat, her need for him. As she gripped him and
held him to her, she whimpered again, pushing up at him, trying to end what he
had begun.

“Please, Rennie. I can’t wait.”

“Yes, you can,” he whispered. He
pulled back and drove into her. “Long enough.”

She screamed and flailed like a
wild creature, her contractions forcing his seed to spew out in a hot shower
that brought on his own silent scream.

I am lost
, he thought in the midst of his
delirium.
I should have been strong enough to keep her from making this
mistake.

Eventually, her starry
romanticism of what he was would curdle under the glare of reality. But
whatever she decided in the future, whatever roads she took that might not
include him, he would be hers forever.

That’s why he was so afraid of
Autumn, because he knew loving her would mean losing himself and whatever hard-earned
self-respect he had achieved; because he could never live up to her standards.
And that meant nursing a new hurt when she realized she had been mistaken in
him.

Chapter 15

Autumn lay entwined with Rennie.
Her happiness turned the dim bedside lamp radiant and enhanced the muted colors
of her bedroom. The musk of sex touched the air.

His shadowed body propped
slightly over hers as he ran one hand up and down her naked hip, and talked
about the future. “You’ll have to go to Athens with me now,” he was saying when
her cell music played.

She ignored its ring. “Why?”
Surfeited, she wanted nothing more than to lie still and listen to Rennie make
plans. “Don’t,” she said when he reached over to pick up her cell.

“You’d better.” He handed it to
her.

She sighed.

Rennie never shirked
responsibility. That was another thing about him she loved. But this one time, after
his earth-shattering admission he loved her, he could have been irresponsible.
Just this once.

She cradled the receiver between
her neck and ear, wanting to pout. “Hello.”

Rennie grinned before he bent
over her chest. His tongue brushed one exposed nipple, delighting her, making
her heart thud and her mouth quiver against the plastic cell. Making her
stomach clench with remembered delight.

“Autumn,” Laney’s piqued voice
came over the wire, “I’ve been calling Mom’s house for hours. I thought we’d
decided you were going back there for the night.”

“No, Laney.” How demure she
sounded. “We didn’t decide that. But it’s okay. Rennie’s here with me.” She
laid a hand on his bare chest. Muscles twitched at her touch. “And he’s going
to stay here tonight.”

“Oh, good,” Laney said, blithely
oblivious to the true situation. “John and I've been talking. We think Rennie’s
right, that you shouldn’t be by yourself. Kiki’s death probably had nothing to
do with you, but you can’t ever tell. Him being there will keep you from
worrying.”

“Yes, it will. Rennie’s right
here to take care of me so I'm not worried a bit.” She circled his nipple with
her thumb, let her fingers trail down to his navel and then his erection. “He’s
taking excellent care of me. Believe me, I’m fine.”

That was an understatement.

Laney didn’t notice. She had no
idea Autumn’s world had turned on its end. “Oh, good. What I was calling about
was your TV. Is it on?”

“My TV? No.” She had better things
to do than watch TV. And chatting with Laney wasn’t one of them.

“Turn it on to WSB. They’re
showing some of the reception on the late news.”

“Reception?” A total blank.

“For this opening at the High
Museum, silly. Guess who they interviewed? Francisco!”

“Fran?” Autumn widened her eyes. “It
figures. It was a woman reporter, right?”