Unbelievable (20 page)

He slid both hands into her panties and dragged them down her legs while he switched to give equal attention to her other breast. With slow, unintrusive movements, he stripped her, never interrupting his ministrations to her body. When she was finally naked, he shifted to put her beneath him, then shucked off his jeans. Holding her gaze, he led her hand to his erection and guided her fingers around him, silently instructing her to hold him—hard. She whimpered and he cupped his hand over her mound, only stroking her, tangling his fingers in her tight curls, his explorations soft and soothing.

Her movements were clumsy, but so damn exciting, he couldn’t bear it. Especially with her expression so dazed, so dreamy, locked to his, letting him feel everything she felt, letting him touch her in ways no other woman ever had. It added unbearably to the physical excitement.

He couldn’t take it. Her scent filled him and he
pressed his face into her throat, his mouth open, her skin hot. She reluctantly released him when he moved down in the bed, trailing damp kisses over her breasts, her ribs and abdomen, her slightly rounded, sexy little belly. Then to where his fingers teased over hot, damp feminine flesh.

“No!”

“Yes.”
Never had he wanted anything as much as he wanted to know all of her. Her scent, powder fresh and woman tangy, was a mixture guaranteed to make him crazed. He kissed her, holding her thighs wide and groaning with the excitement of it, with the taste of her. She was deliciously wet, softly swelled, and he groaned again, his tongue delving deep, his open mouth pressed hard against her. Her hips shot upward and she cried out. Pressing one hand to her belly, he held her still and continued. With each thrust and lick of his tongue, she shuddered and wept, begged and cursed. Knowing his control to be at an end, he closed his mouth around her tiny bud and suckled sweetly, his tongue rasping, and two fingers gently pushed deep inside her.

He felt the contractions build, and he reveled in it, using every ounce of his experience to see that her orgasm was full and explosive. He’d never heard a woman cry so hard, or be so natural about her response, without reserve, without pretense, raw and intense and so very real. It fired his own imminent climax, and he pressed his erection hard into the berth’s mattress as he rode along on her pleasure. When she quieted, spent and limp, her legs still sprawled open to prod his excitement, he had only seconds to locate a condom from his discarded jeans and enter her before he knew he’d be lost.

His thrust was deep and strong, and froze him. With a small, weak cry, her body stiffened in shock, and he stared at her, not sure he wanted to believe the unbelievable. She was twenty-five. She was gorgeous and sexy and so responsive, she could make a man nuts. His pulse went wild. “Josie?”

Her body shuddered and he felt the movement all through him, making him squeeze his eyes shut tight.

She took several deep breaths before saying, “I—I’m okay.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, straining for control, trying to keep his hips perfectly still, his tone soft and calm. “You’re a virgin?”

“I…was. Yes.”

But not anymore.
Now she was his. His heart thundered with the implications, ringing in his ears, making his blood surge with primitive satisfaction. But his brain couldn’t decipher a damn thing, couldn’t even begin to sort through it all. Discussions would have to wait until later; his body took over without his mind’s consent.

Very slowly, measuring the depth of his stroke against the smallness of her body, he thrust, his lower body pulling tight as he pushed into her. Josie arched again and groaned around her tears.

His second slow thrust had her crying out—in startled pleasure. A third, and she wrapped around him and continued to hold him tight while he growled out his release, pressing himself deep inside her, becoming a part of her, making her a part of him. When finally he collapsed over her, she squeezed his neck and kissed his ear, his temple. Her breath was gentle against his heated skin. He shuddered with a fresh wash of unfamiliar, un
settling sensation, something entirely too close to tenderness.

After several minutes had passed and they could both breathe again, she stirred and whispered against his ear, “You are the most incredible man I’ve ever met.”

The wonder was there in her tone, nearing awe. He started to smile, wanting to echo her words, wanting to kiss her again, to start all over. She was special, and she needed to know that, needed to know that somehow they’d been destined to meet, destined to be here, locked together in just this way, with him a part of her. He was thirty-two years old, and in his entire lifetime, never had a woman made him feel this way, hungry and tender and touched to his very soul by her presence. It should have scared him, but it didn’t. Not yet.

She’d given him a precious gift, not just her virginity, which was a rare thing indeed, but her honesty, her openness. She went against everything he believed, every truism he’d ever taught himself over the years through endless empty relationships. Holding her left him…content. What he felt was somehow special; he knew that instinctively. He needed to make her understand it, too.

But then she smoothed her hand over his hair and kissed his shoulder, and added in a shy whisper, “Thank you, Bob,” and he felt reality smack him hard in the head.

Damn, maybe the time for explaining had finally come, because he didn’t think he could bear one second more of hearing her call him by another man’s name, not after what they’d shared, not after he’d concluded they were meant for this night—and many more nights like it. And what better way to ensure she listen to him,
that she give him a chance to reason with her, than to keep her just like this, warm and soft and spent beneath him.

He leaned up and saw her small smile, the glow in her eyes, the flush of her cheeks. The need to kiss her soft lips was intense, but he held back, knowing his responsibility now. “Josie—”

She lifted her hips, causing an instant, unbelievable reaction. He should have been near death, should have been limp as a lily in the rain, but it took only one small suggestive squirm from her and he was back to the point of oblivion, of not caring about anything but her small body and the way she held him. Her hands, having been idle before, now dug into his buttocks, keeping him a part of her, urging him deeper, and she smiled. “Do you think we could…start all over? I’m afraid I might have missed a few things the first time around.”

Her frank, innocent way of speaking made his head spin. “Oh?” He winced at his own croaking tone and the weakening of his resolve. “Like what?”

She seemed to touch him everywhere, her fingers dragging through his chest hair and gliding innocently over his nipples, sliding downward to explore his hips and thighs. “This time, I want you to tell me where to touch you. And where to kiss you. And where to suck—”

Her words broke off as he devoured her mouth, and he thought,
Tomorrow. I’ll confess all tomorrow.

But for tonight he would drown her and himself in pleasure. And with her moving beneath him, urging him on, it seemed like the very best of plans.

J
OSIE KNEW THE SUN
was coming up by the way the light began to slant in though the slatted shutters. It might become a beautiful fall day, but she wouldn’t mind spending it inside this very cabin, with this very man, doing exactly what they’d done throughout most of the night.

Poor Bob. He slept like the dead, but no wonder, considering the energy he’d expended all night. The bed they rested on was very narrow, and not all that comfortable. Of course, out of necessity, she’d spent most of the night resting on him, her head on his shoulder, her breasts against his wide hairy chest, one thigh over his lower abdomen. The man was so sexy, she could spend all night, and the whole day, just looking at him, trying, without much success, to get used to him.

How long this fantasy could last was her only troubling thought. She wasn’t the woman he’d made love to repeatedly last night, the woman who threw caution to the wind and lived for the moment.

She was a sensible woman, with a responsibility to her job, to those who relied on her—to her sister. She led a quiet life in a quiet condo, had an understated wardrobe and tidy hair. Her car, a small brown compact, was paid for and got good gas mileage. She had a sound retirement plan at the local bank. Other than last night, she’d never been in a nightclub. She bought Girl Scout cookies religiously, and kept emergency money in an apple-shaped cookie jar at home. Most of her social life was spent in the nonthreatening company of people over the age of sixty-five.

The wild woman who’d indulged in the outrageous
night of sex would have to confess sooner or later to being a complete and utter fraud.

Her palm drifted over his chest, feeling the crisp dark hair, the swell of muscle and the hardness of bone.
Let it be later,
she silently pleaded, not wanting it to end, not wanting to own up to her own deceptions. Knowing she should let him sleep, but unable to help herself, she pressed her cheek against his throat and breathed his delicious, musky, warm-male scent. It turned her muscles into mush and twirled in her belly. Possessiveness filled her, and she wanted to scream,
He’s mine.

Instead, she pushed reality away and continued to explore his undeniably perfect body.

Heat seemed to be a part of him, incredible heat that seeped into her wherever she touched him, heat that moved over her skin when he looked at her or spoke to her in that sexy deep voice. She hadn’t needed a blanket last night, not with him beneath her, giving off warmth and securing her in his arms. She inhaled again, and marveled at the scent of him. His skin was delicious, musky and inviting, stretched tight over muscle and bone, covered in sexy places with dark, swirling hair.

His nipples, brown and flat and small, hid beneath that hair. And his stomach, bisected by a thin line that grew thicker and surrounded his penis with a perfect framework, drew her fingers again and again. She’d never really looked at a man before; she’d never been this close to a naked man.

She could have looked at Bob forever.

Curiosity drove her to bend over his body, examining that male part of him in some depth. Thick and long and
rock hard when he was excited, but now merely resting in that dark nest of hair, it looked almost vulnerable.

Her chuckle woke him and he stirred. To her fascination, it took only a split second before he changed, before he grew erect, filling and thrusting up before her very eyes.

Her gaze shot to his face and was caught by the intensity, by the seriousness of his stare.

“I died and went to heaven last night, right?”

His voice was thick with sleep, his midnight black hair mussed, his jaws shadowed by beard stubble. He was a gorgeous male, and she suddenly wondered how awful she might look after a night of debauchery.

He lifted a hand to her cheek and his fingertips touched her everywhere—her nose, her lips, her lashes and brows. In that same, sleep-roughened voice, he whispered, “You have to be an angel. No woman could look this beautiful first thing in the morning.”

Josie blushed. She wasn’t used to hearing such outrageous compliments, or seeing such interest in a man’s eyes. His fingers sifted through her hair, feeling it, dragging it over her shoulders, then over his chest. He lifted a curl to his face and inhaled, smoothed it over his cheek.

“Come here.”

Ah, she knew what that husky tone meant now. She’d heard it many times last night. She’d be dozing, enjoying the feel of him beneath her, when suddenly his lips would be busy again, touching and tasting whatever part of her skin he could reach. His large, wonderfully sensitive hands would start to explore, innocently at first, then with a purpose.

He’d roused her several times in just that way throughout the long night. And each time she’d look at him, he’d say those words.
Come here.

She wanted to hear him say them every morning, for the rest of her life.

Still holding a lock of her hair, he tugged her down until her lips met his, until he could steal her breath with a kiss so sweet, it brought tears to her eyes. He shifted, prodded and urged her body until she was arranged to his satisfaction—directly on top of him.

“Mmm. You’re the nicest blanket I’ve ever been covered by.” His large, rough hands held her buttocks, pressing her firmly against him. His stubbled cheek rubbed her soft cheek, giving her shivers. “And you smell good enough to be breakfast.” His voice was thick with suggestion as he nuzzled the smooth skin beneath her chin.

Thoughts of the things he’d done to her, the shocking way she’d responded, made heat rush to her cheeks with the mixed meanings of his words. The bold things he said, and the way he said them, made her body pulse with excitement.

She kissed the bridge of his nose and wondered how to begin, how to start a confession that well might put an end to the most wonderful experiences she’d ever imagined. She had no doubt he’d tell her not to worry, that it wouldn’t matter. At first. But when he got to know her, when she was forced to revert back to Josie Jackson, home-care nurse, community-conscious neighbor and responsible sister, he’d lose interest. She couldn’t be two people, no matter how she wished it. And the woman he’d made love to all night would cease to exist
because despite the isolation of it, she loved her job and cared about the people she tended.

She opened her mouth to explain, to try to find the words to rationalize what she’d done, the insane way she’d behaved. But he forestalled her with his questing fingers, tracing the space where her thigh met her buttocks, then gently pushing between. She should have been shocked, and hours ago she would have been. But no more, not after the pleasure he’d shown her. She trusted him to do anything he wished, knowing she’d enjoy it. And she did.

If the sound of quickened breathing was any indication, he liked touching her as much as she liked being touched.

With his free hand at her nape, he brought her mouth to his again so that words were impossible anyway. And unwanted.