“Why don’t you just be quiet and watch the movie.”
“Hand me one of those beers first.”
She did as he asked, taking a can of apple juice for herself and refusing the popcorn. He sipped his beer; she sipped her juice. They both leaned their heads back against the seat in companionable silence, with the dome light glowing above them.
He stretched his arm across the seat behind her. “This movie’s making me horny.”
Her heart gave a queer thump in her chest. “Which part? Where Maria sings about the hills being alive with the sound of music? Or is it that do re mi thing the kids are doing?”
A grin flicked across that hard mouth. “It’s Maria, all right. You’ve just got to wonder what’s underneath that apron she’s wearing.”
The discussion was definitely getting dangerous. She couldn’t remember feeling more at sea and less in touch with herself. She decided to buy a little time with a change of subject. “What have you been doing with your time when you’re not meeting with the local business leaders?”
At first she didn’t think he’d answer, but he shrugged. “I work out at the Y, visit friends, take care of some business. Today I spent a couple of hours at Dad’s office. He likes it when I hang around.” He frowned.
“Something wrong?”
“Not really. I don’t know. I guess the problems he and Mom are having are more serious than I thought.” The crease in his forehead deepened. “He said she’s gone to stay with Annie for a while. I thought he meant overnight, but it seems she’s been there since the weekend, and today he told me she doesn’t have any plans to come back.”
“Oh, dear.”
“I can’t understand her doing something like this. It really has him upset.” He drained his beer and glared at her. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, so would you mind keeping your questions to yourself.”
He was the one who’d volunteered the information, but she didn’t call him on it.
He jabbed his empty can toward the distant screen. “With all your chattering, I can’t keep my mind on the movie, and Maria’s singing one of my favorite songs. Damn, but that woman looks good naked.”
“Maria does not sing naked in The Sound of Music!”
“I’ve got perfect eyesight, and that woman is naked as the day she was born. You can even see her—”
“You’re mistaken. The person who’s naked is Baron von Trapp. And he is certainly one impressive figure of a man.”
“You call that impressive? That puny—”
“I do.”
“Man-oh-man, if you think that’s impressive, I could sure make you one happy woman.”
“Braggart.” Had she gone completely crazy? She was deliberately baiting him.
“You, on the other hand, might have warts on your belly for all I know.”
“I do not have warts on my belly.”
“Says you.” He took her apple juice from her hand, and tossed it, along with his beer can, into the cooler, which he picked up and put in the front seat. “Okay, you can show me now.”
“Show you what?”
“I’m being serious here. If you’ve got warts, my boy’s gonna end up with them, and if that’s true, I need time to prepare myself.”
“You are a certifiable lunatic.”
“Just unzip your jeans a little bit there. Enough for me to get a peek.”
“No!”
“Okay, then. I’ll have to go by feel.”
She slapped his hands away as he reached for the snap. “I told you I’d make out with you! I didn’t say I’d let you give me a medical exam.”
By the time she realized what she’d said, he was grinning as if he’d just won the lottery. “That’s right, you did say you’d make out. Well, come on now, honey. Show me your stuff.”
“I will not.”
“Coward.”
“I won’t be baited.”
“You’re scared to make out with me.” In one motion, he pulled off her bulky sweatshirt and tossed it on top of the discarded cooler. “Scared you won’t be able to handle me. You are one big scaredy-cat.”
“I am not.”
“Scared to show me what you’ve got. Scared you won’t measure up to all those thousands of women in my past.”
“There aren’t thousands of women in your past.”
His grin looked so much like a fox’s that she could almost see the chicken feathers stuck to his mouth.
Her heart thudded against her ribs. She was frightened, aroused, and amused all at the same time, which made it difficult to frown and sound grouchy. “Oh, all right. I guess I’ll make out with you. But keep your hands to yourself.”
“That’s not fair since I’m gonna let you put yours wherever you want.”
A dozen locations sprang to mind. “I’m sure I won’t want to.”
“I seriously hope that’s not true.” He switched off the dome light and plunged them into darkness so thick she felt as if the stars had been turned off.
Her eyes gradually adjusted enough to make out his shape, if not his features. He cupped her shoulder, and she felt him come close. “Maybe you just need me to remind you where some of the best places are.” His lips brushed past her trashy hoop earring and settled on the tender spot beneath. “This one, for example, is a nice warm-up spot.”
She caught her breath and wondered how he knew she was sensitive there. “If you’re going to talk through this, could you at least manage to say ain’t a few times so I can fantasize?”
His lips tugged on her earlobe, right next to the gold wire, and his elbow bumped against the door. “Who could you fantasize about that’s better than me?”
“Well…” She struggled to speak as her skin turned to goose flesh. “There’s this studmuffin physicist who used to be a top-quark hunter at Fermilabs…”
“I doubt he says ain’t.” He played at the corner of her mouth. “You’re supposed to be showing me what you’re made of. So far I’m doing all the work here.”
She lost what remained of her restraint and tilted her head just far enough for her lips to meet his. The contact jolted her so that she forgot all about playing games, and as their kiss deepened, she abandoned herself to the pleasure of the erotic. She tasted beer and popcorn, along with a hint of toothpaste and something dangerous that reminded her of thunder.
“You are the damnedest woman,” he whispered.
She kissed him again. He pulled her shirttail free, and his big hands, strong and possessive, settled on the skin beneath. His thumbs trailed up the small ridges of her spine ’til they came to her bra, then he whispered against her open mouth. “We have to get rid of this, Rosebud.”
She didn’t even consider arguing. As she enjoyed the sweet invasion of his tongue, he made short work of the buttons on her blouse, despite the fact that the darkness kept him from seeing exactly what he was doing, then he released the front hook on her bra. His movements were accompanied by bumps and thuds as he banged against one part of the car or another.
He bent to take her in his mouth. Her nipples were tender from her pregnancy, and when he began to suckle her, she bucked and dug her fingers into his hair. The exquisite pain of the gentle suction left her wanting both to cry out for him to stop and beg him not to.
She knew she had to touch him as he was touching her, and she dragged at his T-shirt. The interior of the car had grown hot and steamy, and the soft cotton felt damp beneath her hands. Her shoulder bumped against the window, and she felt the moisture that had congealed on it seep through her blouse.
He helped her free his T-shirt, then turned his attention to her jeans. He pitched her shoes into the front seat, then tugged at the denim while she explored the contours of his bare chest.
She gave an oof of surprise when he whipped off her jeans and her naked bottom came in contact with the cold upholstery. The shock jolted her and suddenly everything seemed to be happening too fast. She needed to think this over, weigh the facts, consider her options.
“I didn’t… I don’t…”
“Hush.” His husky whisper filled the steamy interior as he cupped her thigh and pushed it away from its mate. She heard a soft curse.
“It’s too dark,” he muttered. “I still can’t see you.”
She stroked the contours of his pectorals and trailed her thumb over the hard point of his nipple. “Go by feel,” she whispered.
He did better than that. He went by taste, and she thought she would die from this pleasure she had dreamed of but never experienced.
“You don’t—” She gasped. “You don’t have to do that.”
His chuckle wasn’t altogether steady, and she moaned when his hot whispery breath fell on her. “Mind your own business.”
Once again he dropped his head, and she felt as if all the parts of her were unraveling. She banged her elbow against the steamy window when she gripped his bare, damp shoulders. He swore and bumped against the seat as he shifted his weight, but none of it mattered.
It was too exquisite, too miraculous. She climbed and spiraled, but just as she felt herself beginning to slip over the edge, he drew back. “Oh, no, you don’t. Not without me.”
She lay open and vulnerable before him. His breathing came fast and heavy. “God, this was a stupid idea. We should be doing this in the bedroom where we can see each other, but I can’t wait that long. I need you now.”
She reached for the snap on his jeans and felt the hard, thick shape of him. His breath caught on a hiss as she took her time unzipping, exploring until his restraint broke with a hoarse exclamation. “No more, Rosebud. I can’t take anymore.”
“Wimp.” She dropped her mouth to his chest and licked a special trail all her own.
He gave a sound that was part chuckle and part moan. At the same time, he leaned back and lifted her so she straddled him. She had lost all of her clothing except the blouse that hung open from her shoulders. He had only lost his T-shirt. Although she had freed him from his jeans, the space was too confined for her to remove them completely. His chest was bare, however, as bare as her bottom, and she nipped him with her teeth.
He uttered a strangled exclamation, but she loved her position of supremacy, and she had no pity. Even though her feet were wedged awkwardly against the back of the front seat, she didn’t let that prevent her from kissing him how and where she would.
While darkness deprived her of sight, her other senses grew more acute, and she suspected from his touches, tastes, and deep, intimate caresses that it was the same for him.
The faintest thread of moonlight caught a glimmering rivulet rolling down the steamy windows, and the sweat from their bodies was slick on her palms. He cupped her bare bottom in his big hands and lifted her. “Now, sweetheart. Now.”
She moaned as he guided her down upon him, but her body accepted him without question. She gave a sob and pressed her breast to his mouth. He caressed her with lips, teeth, and tongue until she had to draw back and move on him before she went crazy.
Even as he grasped her hips, he didn’t try to force her into his rhythm but let her find her own. She raised and lowered herself upon him, rubbing the tips of her breasts against the soft hair of his chest and returning his deep, devouring kisses. She felt strong and sure as she met his passion. Sensation built upon sensation until reality slipped away and she felt as if she were being hurled through a supercollider, flying past the speed of light through a narrow underground passage toward the place where everything came apart.
And then she cried out as all the molecules that made up who she was fragmented: atoms dissociated, nuclei detached, everything broke open, shattered, and, at the end, left her more complete than she had ever been.
He went rigid with her cry. His teeth sank into the side of her neck, not hurting her, but holding her as he spilled himself within her depths. For a fraction of time she felt his utter defenselessness, and she sagged forward, protecting him as he found his ease.
Their hearts thundered together, one pressed against the other. She turned her lips to his hair.
Finally he stirred beneath her, a shift of his hand, a movement in his leg. Only gradually did she grow aware of the strain in her splayed thighs and the cramp in her calf. The air inside the car was so thick with heat it was hard to draw breath, but she didn’t want to move. This intimacy was too precious to her.
“What am I going to do with you?” he muttered against her breast.
You could try loving me.
The unspoken thought jarred her, then filled her with dismay. Was this the destructive path her subconscious was taking? She wanted him to fall in love with her? When had she lost touch with reality? What made her entertain, even in her fantasies, the notion that this man who wanted no attachments could love her, especially when no one else had ever been able to?
“You’re going to take me home,” she said briskly. “That was quite pleasant, but I have a great deal of work to do tomorrow, and I need my rest.”
“Quite pleasant?”
It had been earth-shattering, but she could no more confess that to him than she could explain how their coming together had given her an entirely new understanding of high-speed subatomic particle collisions.
God. Why was she thinking of that now? Everything people believed about her was true! She was a complete geek.
She reached for her clothes. Her panties were lost somewhere in the dark, so she drew her jeans on without them, pulling them up over her wetness.
He threw open the door, and as the dome light flashed on, she drew her blouse across her breasts. He glanced down at her as he zipped his jeans. “You’re not bad, Professor, for someone who isn’t a big-time player.”
His casual dismissal of what had been so important to her made her want to weep. Fool! But what did she expect? Did she think he was going to declare his undying love for her simply because she’d finally given him what he must have known he’d get all along?
They rode home in silence. He went into the house with her, and she felt his gaze as she climbed the stairs to her room.
She hesitated, then looked down at him watching her from the foyer below. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”
She’d meant to sound brisk, but her words had a wistful quality. She didn’t want the evening to end this way. What if she held out her hand and invited him into her bed? The idea chilled her. Was that the only way she could keep him at her side?
He slouched against the front door and looked bored. “Yeah, it was great.”
He couldn’t have found a clearer way to tell her he was finished with her. With a man like Cal Bonner, she realized, the game was everything, and once it was over, he lost interest. Heartsick and angry, she turned and headed for her room.
Moments later, she heard him drive away.
Chapter Thirteen
P leasant! She’d said it was pleasant! Cal sat at his favorite table in the corner of the Mountaineer and brooded. Usually there weren’t any empty seats around him, but tonight everybody’d seemed to realize he had a giant mean-on, and they’d given him wide berth.
No matter how easily she’d dismissed what had happened between them, he knew Professor Rosebud had never had a better lover than she’d had tonight. There’d been none of that nonsense they’d gone through before, with her pushing his hands away. No, sir. He’d had his hands all over her, and she hadn’t uttered a single protest.
But what stuck in his craw—what really stuck like a big old chunk of hard-boiled egg—was the fact that he’d just had some of the best sex of his life, and he’d never felt more unsatisfied.
Maybe it was his fault for getting cute. Why hadn’t he just grabbed her right there in the house, carried her upstairs, and romanced her in his bed with all the lights on and that big mirror overhead? He could have done his best work there, not that he hadn’t been pretty damn good tonight, but if they’d been in his bed, he would have seen everything he wanted to see. In duplicate.
He reminded himself this was the third time the tw
o of them had gone at it, but he wasn’t any closer to seeing her naked now than he’d been that first night. It was getting to be an obsession. If only he hadn’t turned off the dome light, he could have looked his fill, but despite that sassy mouth of hers, he’d known she was skittish, and he’d wanted her so much he hadn’t been thinking straight. Now he had to face the consequences.
He understood his nature well enough to know that the only reason he found himself thinking about her a few thousand times a day was because he still didn’t feel as if he’d really made love to her. How could he when he didn’t know what she looked like? Once he found out, it’d be over. Instead of growing stronger every day, this attraction he felt toward her would disappear, and he’d be his old self again, ready to roam the fertile fields of dewy young females with flawless faces and sweet temperaments, although he was giving serious consideration to raising his minimum age requirement to twenty-four, since he was getting tired of everybody baiting him.
His thoughts strayed back to the Professor. Damn, but she was one funny lady. Sharp as a tack, too. Over the years, he’d developed a certain smugness about the fact that he was smarter than most everybody else, but that razor-sharp brain of hers made it hard to sneak much past her. Instead, she marched right alongside him, her brain cells clicking away, matching him step for step and move for move. He could almost feel her peering into every dusty corner of his mind and making a generally accurate assessment of whatever it was she found there.
“Reliving those three interceptions you threw against the Chiefs last year?”
His head shot up, and he found himself looking into the face of his nightmares. Son of a bitch.
Kevin Tucker’s lips curled in a cocky grin that reminded Cal the kid didn’t have to spend thirty minutes standing under a hot shower every morning just to work the kinks out.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Heard this is a beautiful part of the country, and I decided to take a look. I rented one of those vacation villas north of town. Nice place.”
“You just happened to choose Salvation?”