The Hellion (38 page)

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Authors: Lavyrle Spencer

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BOOK: The Hellion
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"Yes, it was. But by this time they realized they'd fallen in love, and there was no way they could stop themselves."

His tie slipped free and she went to work on his shirt buttons. "And ...?was she prompted.

"And so one day he got brave and undressed her in the back seat of his Chevy." Rachel's slip slid up her body, covered her face, and disappeared over her head as she raised her willing arms in the air.

Standing before him, half undressed, her heart doing a wild dance in her breast, she asked innocently, "And did she undress him?"

"No, she was too scared."

Rachel raised sultry eyes to his, letting her fingertips flutter over his shirtfront.

"Dumb girl ... there's nothing to it," she

murmured against his lips, before removing his
  
459 glasses, setting them carefully aside, then turning her attention to his shirt, which she skillfully slipped off to caress his naked back.

She felt his hands at the catch of her bra. "Mmm, I see ... nothing to it." And a moment later it, too, was gone.

Their warm skin touched, her breasts flattened against the silvered hair on his chest, and suddenly the game fell away.

"Oh, Rachel ... remember how it was?" he uttered against her lips.

"Yes," she breathed. "Just like now ... we couldn't hold back ... and then we couldn't get enough."

"And I'll never get enough of you ... never," he vowed, covering her face with kisses, then stepping back, the better to see her eyes while clasping her head in his wide hands. He drew her up on tiptoe, placed one hard kiss on her mouth, then deftly slipped the last of her clothing down her legs, stood, and reached for his belt. But she brushed his hands aside and took over the welcome task, divesting him of trousers, briefs,

stockings, and shoes, dropping to one knee before him, then pausing on her way back up to kiss his hard thigh, his staff of masculinity, his stomach, his chest, the soft hollow of his throat. Joining her fingers behind his neck, she kissed his mouth last, lingering there longest while gently rolling from side to side, catching him high against her belly before stepping back to view him in his entirety.

"You are"--reaching to claim him, she searched for an adequate word--"resplendent."

He laughed indulgently, with a quick flash of even, white teeth, then stood back, running his palms from her armpits to her hips.

"Am I really?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Funny thing ... you are, too." They gazed the length of each other's bodies, experiencing a subtle difference this time--they were husband and wife now; they belonged to each other. They touched ... and trembled a little. Glanced up ... and laughed softly. Glanced down ... and fell silent.

They touched more freely. His bare foot covered hers. His naked knee lifted to separate her silken thighs, then pressed high and hard against her eager flesh. She drew her hands up the backs

of his thighs, clutching him close,
       
461 holding him for a long, appreciative moment while contemplating the fact that she need never say good-bye to him again.

"Sometimes when I remember, I get greedy. I want the years we lost."

"Shh ... don't," he whispered gruffly. "Only remember the good. Like the first time I kissed you here ..." His hands again captured her breasts and he bent his head, rubbing soft closed lips back and forth across a turgid nipple while fondling the other. "You were exquisite ... you still are."

In one swift motion he slipped his hands beneath her arms and fell back onto the bed, taking her with him and lifting her high while his mouth opened and sought her flesh. When his lips surrounded and stroked her breast, she breathed a throaty moan, arching sharply, head tipped back and eyes closed, letting herself be overcome by sensation.

He took her other breast in his mouth, biting lightly, washing it with wet warmth, then suckling it in a way that started her body rocking upon his. His legs fell open, creating a lee where her body fit precisely while he took up a

matching rhythm.

His arms trembled as he drew her higher, sliding her body along his until she straddled him, and he pressed his mouth to her flat stomach. And yet he forced her higher, murmuring unintelligible phrases while turning to brush his lips against the soft skin of her inner thigh, the warm secret hollow above it, then the core of her femininity. With his mouth still claiming intimate possession he rolled them onto their sides, nuzzling, stroking, bringing wordless replies to her lips.

Her body moved in lissome accommodation while heat radiated through her limbs and the blood quickened in her veins. Then with a sudden call, she forced his head back and withdrew.

"Stop." Her voice trembled as she looked down at him, her fingers threaded through the hair at his temple. "Together ... the first time should be together."

"The first time," he repeated. His eyes closed as if in benediction, and he kissed her stomach one last time before drawing himself up until he was gazing into her lambent eyes. "The first time as Mr. and Mrs. Gentry."

Her eager hands sought his flesh, coddled it,

inciting his hips to seek hers as she
      
463 rolled to her back, drawing him atop her.

"Come into me, Tommy Lee ... where you belong."

She lifted ... he lunged ... and nature's choreography took over.

"Where I've always belonged."

Marriage ... the blending of souls that lent meaning to the blending of bodies. Though each time had had a magic all its own, no other had matched the poignancy of this. Holding nothing in reserve they gave themselves freely. He was powerful and tensile as he drove within; she limber and lithe while lifting to receive. His arms quaked and his head hung low while the thrusts grew mightier. She gasped at the brink of climax, driving her head back sharply, lifting her shoulders in the timeless gesture of appeal.

Together they hovered on that awesome brink while savoring the coming cataclysm, and when it shuddered through them, they called out aloud, clinging together until the final ease.

  
The afternoon sun splashed through the wide glass doors, throwing dappled patterns on the blue

carpet beneath a leafy schefflera plant. The fireplace awaited its first fire. Beside it, two cozy chairs invited years and years of contentment, while beside Rachel rested a man who promised occasional tumult.

She chuckled and he lifted his head to find her eyes closed as the sound rippled from her throat.

"What's so funny?"

She opened her eyes, smiled a very satisfied smile, and twisted a strand of his hair around her finger. "Nothing. I'm just so incredibly happy. I really do have everything I want."

He tucked her head beneath his chin, sighing with equal satisfaction.

"I love you, Tommy Lee."

He kissed her forehead and nestled her close once more. "And I love you, Rachel."

She snuggled against him, toying with the hair on his chest while dreaming of their future. Suddenly she pulled back, reminding him, "You never did finish telling me that story. So what ever became of the girl and boy?"

"Oh, let's see ..." He pondered silently, absently caressing her naked spine. "She turned into a successful businesswoman,

selling ladies' wear and showing all the
    
465 women in town what panache means, and he became a thin, dashing, handsome, irresist--was

"You can skip the unimportant stuff," she teased. "The love story--how did it turn out?"

"Why, he married her, of course."

"Mmm ..." she mused. "He married her after all."

"And carried her off to his beautiful castle on the shores of Cedar Creek Lake, and when she saw it, she knew it was where she'd always wanted to spend her life."

"And did she?" Rachel smiled up at Tommy Lee.

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Forever and ever. You see ... they somehow managed to live happily ever after."

She closed her eyes, feeling his steady heartbeat against her temple, the soft brush of his palm on her back. Then Rachel Gentry tucked herself close to Tommy Lee, and together they sighed with satisfaction over the final chapter of a love story begun many years before.

               
THE END

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