A Promise of Roses (11 page)

He cradled his hand on one thigh. “Oh, I think I've learned my lesson."

She smiled, proud that she'd managed to get away. But her feeling of triumph didn't last long.

With lightning speed, Lucas reached out and grabbed a handful of her bright-yellow skirt. Then got to his feet and backed her up against the wall.

He stood over her, his hot breath on her neck sending shivers down her spine. She watched him, saw the raw emotion in his eyes. Still, at that moment, fear was the furthest thing from her mind. She no longer wanted to evade Lucas. She wanted very much to be here, up against the wall, his body pressing into her own. Her lashes fluttered as her eyes drifted closed.

"You know I want you, Megan."

The words blew through her like a cool summer breeze. Gooseflesh broke out along her arms.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She understood. She wanted it, too.

"I want to take you to bed.” His voice was low, strained. He put a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to meet his. “Will you let me make love to you?"

Megan tried to smile. He talked too much. She wanted him to shut up and kiss her. She wanted him to make love to her.

"Yes,” she whispered. “Make love to me, Lucas."

A moment later, his lips descended to capture hers in a passionate, undisciplined kiss. His tongue darted into her mouth, caressing every inch of its secret recesses. Megan kissed him back, her tongue tangling like an errant vine with his.

Her hands went to the buttons of his shirt, slipping them free until her fingers came in contact with the smooth, warm flesh of his bare chest. Her thumbs flicked over his tiny male nipples, teasing them to hard pebbles. His hands ran up her arms to her shoulders, kneading them a moment before he began unbuttoning her blouse.

Her top and skirt soon billowed around her feet on the floor. She didn't feel the least bit self-conscious standing before Lucas in her stockings and camisole. She'd given in to temptation this evening and donned the silk leggings, feeling devilishly feminine as she put them on, securing them with pristine white garters. It wasn't often that she dressed up anymore, so she took great pleasure in wearing them on this rare occasion. She hadn't known at the time that Lucas would ever see them. But now, knowing that he would, her stomach fluttered, and a jolt of excitement washed through her body.

Their kisses became fevered, hard and hot, until the world seemed to tilt on its axis, tossing her senses out of control. They broke apart, gasping for breath. Megan pulled the tails of Lucas's shirt out of his pants, shoving the material over his back until it joined her clothing on the floor. He yanked at her camisole until she feared he would tear the delicate material. She covered his hands with her own to help remove the impeding garments. She bent to her garters, but he stopped her.

His firm fingers brushed up the back of her leg. “Leave them on."

So the stockings remained, increasing the eroticism of their encounter.

"Come with me,” he whispered, pressing tiny, biting kisses along her neck and collarbone.

His fingers dug into the back of her thighs, lifting her legs around his waist. The handles of his matching Colts pressed into her flesh, driving her higher above him. She looked down at him, liking this position, this feeling of power. Her hair fell all around them in a black curtain as she lowered her head for another soul-searing kiss.

He took her to the bed, letting her body slowly arch backward to meet the mattress. He let go of her to remove his gun belt, and she moaned in frustration, wanting his hands on her every moment. He pulled off his boots and shucked his pants, his movements jerky and rushed.

Megan rose up on an elbow to watch. He stood before her in all his naked
glory, letting her look
her fill. His clothes didn't do justice to the sinewy form beneath, she decided. Every inch of him was taut muscle and golden bronzed skin. She opened her arms, beckoning him.

He came closer, putting a hand on each of her knees. She reacted to the slight pressure, letting her legs part. He came to lie between them, resting his weight on one arm. She wiggled nervously when he didn't touch her. Her whole being seemed to tremble with the need to feel him near.

Staring down at her, he touched one nipple with the tip of a finger. It swelled and tightened. “You're beautiful,” he said.

The fire he started in her breast spread throughout her body, settling at her innermost core. “Lucas,” she moaned. “Please."

He claimed her mouth once again as his hands fondled and caressed her. His warm fingers teased her nipples into peaks of desire. He stroked her belly, her hips, her inner thighs, venturing closer to that center of her being that cried out for his tender attention.

He brushed a hand over the crisp curls, making her strain toward his touch. She whimpered when one finger delved inside.

"Oh, God,” he groaned. “You're so wet. I want you so much."

Megan ran her fingers through his hair. “Please,” she whispered.

He raised his head. “Are you sure?"

She nodded.

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. His mouth trailed across her cheek, down her neck. His hands moved to her sides, and he held her still as he positioned himself above her. In one swift motion, he buried himself inside.

She gasped at the painful, burning sensation that ripped through her. She was about to try to get away from Lucas when he stilled, tensing in her arms.

He put his lips to her brow. “It's okay. Don't
move,
and the pain will go away."

At that moment, she didn't believe him. But within seconds, the burning passed, replaced by the sensation of a deep, dark void she knew only he could fill. He pulled back slightly, and she dug her nails into his shoulders, wanting him to stay.

"It's all right,” he whispered, brushing a kiss over her cheek. “I'm not going anywhere."

His lips touched her own. First soft and tender, then more urgent as his tongue delved into her mouth, sweeping and sucking. Rough, firm fingertips caressed her stomach, the undersides of her breasts. Then he started moving.
Slow, short strokes.

Every nerve in her body sprang to attention. Megan moaned low in her throat. Of their own accord, her legs lifted to hug his undulating hips. She arched her back to meet his strong thrusts.

Lucas trailed a path of hot, openmouthed kisses along the side of her neck. His arms wrapped behind her back, supporting her as their movements became more frantic. She let her head fall back as a desperate moan echoed through the room.

Her need was like a fiery inferno, begging to be put out. But his damp skin
on her own
only added to the heat between them. His hard length throbbing and thrusting inside her only fueled the flames.

An overwhelming pleasure washed over her, making her cry out. She threaded her fingers through his hair, clutching the damp tendrils in an attempt to ground herself.

A moment later Lucas stiffened with a long groan before falling limply upon her.

They lay there, motionless, for some time. Megan's fingers ran through his hair in a comforting, unconscious gesture. She smiled when she felt tiny kisses on her shoulder and neck.

With another groan, Lucas rolled to his side, taking Megan with him. It took some doing to pull the sheets and bedspread from beneath them, but he finally got the covers loose enough to cover their naked forms.

Megan snuggled closer, drawing her leg up over his thigh. She glanced up, expecting to see a contented male smile adorning his face. Instead, the corners of his mouth turned down. His brows knit together as though he were deep in thought.

"What's wrong?” she asked, pushing up on one elbow.

He shook his head. His mouth evened into a straight line, but the wrinkle in his forehead remained.

She pulled away, moving to the other side of the bed. “Well, I thought all that grunting and groaning meant you were having a good time, but I guess I was wrong.” With a solid punch, she puffed the pillows and arranged them behind her back.

He turned to look at her, wondering what had gotten into her all of a sudden. “And I suppose that was some other woman screaming in my ear."

"I did not scream,” Megan denied, crossing her arms under her breasts.

The sheet puffed out, giving him a clear view of her ample charms. He tamped down the urge to reach over and brush a thumb over one of the raspberry nipples.

"You did scream. I'm sure the people in the next room would be happy to back me up.” He rapped his knuckles on the wall above the headboard.

"Maybe I did, but only because
I
was enjoying myself. I wasn't simply making use of the nearest male to slake my animal lust."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I've seen happier faces on men heading to the gallows. I didn't expect you to be grinning from ear to ear, but the least you could do is pretend you enjoyed the encounter"

Leaning over her, he pressed his lips to the curve of her shoulder. “What makes you think I didn't?"

"Your frown the size of the Arkansas River."

He raised his head to meet her eyes. They sparkled, flashing daggers of gold in the low light that filtered from the lamp beside the armchair where he'd been reading the
Wichita
Gazette.

"I wasn't frowning,” he said.

"No? Then why was your brow more wrinkled than these sheets?” She snapped the covers back angrily, leaping out of bed.

Lucas took a moment to watch as she leaned down to retrieve her abandoned clothes from the floor. She had no inhibitions, not even considering the fact that she was parading around naked. Annie had never done that. Hell, she had always put her nightdress back on after they'd made love, assuring him that no proper lady would ever sleep in the altogether.

With the memory of Annie came dawning understanding of Megan's upset. Immediately after he'd collapsed atop Megan, he'd begun thinking of Annie.
Of how he was betraying her by being with another woman.
Megan must have seen him frowning about that.

He sat up, touching his feet to the carpeted floor. Megan started away, but he grabbed her arm.

"Wait a minute."

She struggled, getting in several light punches to his biceps and chest.

"Damn it, I said stop.” He pinned her arms, dragging her into the V of his legs.

She stiffened, standing straight as a pin. She clutched her skirt and blouse, along with his things, tightly to her chest.

He dropped his head between her breasts, taking in the seductive scent of her—roses and sweat and the smell of their lovemaking. He waited for the right words to form on his tongue.
And waited.

When nothing came to mind, he lifted his face to look at her. Tears
brimmed
her eyes. He realized the rarity of such emotion in this beautiful woman and knew he had hurt her deeply.

"Megan."

She continued staring over his head at the opposite wall.

"Megan.” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping her head so she would be forced to meet his eyes. “I'm sorry. I wasn't frowning about what happened between us."

She swallowed, licking her lips before speaking. “Then why were you?"

He moaned, returning his forehead to her chest. He was surprised to feel the clothing drop to the floor and her fingers twine through the hair at the back of his neck.

"Can't I just say it didn't have anything to do with making love to you and leave it at that?"

"All right."

His head snapped up. Could he have imagined what Megan had just said? The words had been soft, but he didn't think he'd misheard her. Still, he couldn't comprehend the idea of Megan—Megan Adams, his Megan, the same Megan he'd been with twenty-four hours a day for the past week—letting the subject drop so easily. No fight, no screaming, no objects being hurled across the room at him, just a simple “all right."

"All right?” he asked almost timidly.

She nodded.
“As long as you promise to tell me if I ever disappoint you."

He stared at her, dumbfounded.

She moved closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts to his chest. She kissed his ear,
then
began to gently draw on the lobe. “I didn't disappoint you, did I?"

He gave a strangled, raspy laugh. Already his body was burning again, desperate to make love to her once more. “Disappoint me? Christ, woman, if I were any more disappointed, I'd be dead."

She gazed at him a minute before a wide smile spread across her face. “Good."

Then she kissed him, full on the mouth, teasing and tempting with that slick tongue of hers. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to push her away.

"No. Megan, no,” he insisted, gripping her upper arms. He saw the confusion in her eyes. “I don't think it's a good idea for us to be together again."

When a wounded look replaced the confusion, he hurried to reassure her. “You're bound to be sore."

"Uh-uh,” she said, trying to kiss him again.

He kept her at arm's length. “We can't, Meg."

She stepped back, breaking his hold.
“Why not?"

He knew he was hurting her, but he didn't know what else to do. Making love to her had been a mistake. Oh, he wasn't sorry—or not as sorry as he should have been. She had been hot and willing, and he had enjoyed every damn minute. But that didn't excuse the fact that she'd been a virgin.
His prisoner and a virgin.
He'd stepped over two lines this night. And that didn't include the gnawing guilt that ate at his gut—guilt for his unfaithfulness to Annie, the woman he'd promised to love and cherish forever.

He couldn't make love to Megan again, no matter how much he wanted to. Blood rushed through his veins, causing his body to stiffen in protest, reminding him of just what he would be missing.

Grabbing his clothes from the floor, he stepped into the trousers. He left his shirt unbuttoned, pressing a light kiss to her cheek. “It's not a good idea right now."

He picked up his boots, gun belt, and hat and went to the door. “Get some rest. I'll be back in a while."

With that, he walked out of the room, leaving Megan standing naked—except for her disheveled stockings and garters—beside the bed. She felt her face flush in embarrassment.