Read FATHER IN TRAINING Online
Authors: Susan Mallery
Her eyes shot open and she sat up straight in the seat. Maybe that was it, she thought grimly. He'd changed his mind. He didn't want to do "it" with her anymore. Or he'd never wanted to. She'd misunderstood everything. He'd kissed her before because … because…
"Stop fidgeting," Kyle said. "We've got plenty of time."
She stopped breathing. "Time?" she squeaked.
At the next stoplight, he glanced at her. Something warm and sexy glowed in his dark brown eyes. He grinned at her. "I was going to give you until tonight to let you have your way with me, then I figured why waste a perfectly good afternoon. So don't worry, darlin', we've got four days for loving."
She sucked in a breath and coughed. "Great."
So much for being Sensible Sandy. So much for being in control and acting dignified and sophisticated. She felt as prepared as a virgin facing a sacrificial altar. Maybe she could tell him she'd changed her mind. Maybe she should tell him that she wasn't his type. After all, she was just a mom with three kids. Hardly the sultry vixen he must be used to. She clutched her belly as it rolled one more time.
He turned into the driveway. She thought about jumping out of the car, but she figured she would only maim herself, and the thought of trying to make love with skinned knees was just too depressing.
Instead of continuing toward her place, Kyle turned the station wagon into his driveway and parked in front of the garage. He turned off the engine, then got out of the car and walked around to her side. It was her moment to bolt. She didn't.
Sandy
sat there like a rabbit caught in the hypnotic stare of a snake. She could do nothing to escape. It was inevitable. She might as well make the best of the situation.
He opened her door and held out his hand. She hesitated before placing her palm on his. Their gazes locked. Instantly, something hot and alive crackled between them. The rolling of her stomach quieted as anticipation took its place. Her body still trembled, but this time from need, not nerves.
"Stop thinking about it," he told her. "It'll be fine." He pulled her to her feet and slammed the car door shut behind her, then tugged her along to his back door.
"I'm not nervous," she lied.
But once she was standing in his living room and he released her hand, all her doubts crashed in on her. It was as if Kyle's touch kept her insecurities at bay, but as soon as she was by herself, she began to question everything.
"You want some champagne?" he asked as he headed for the kitchen.
She crossed the room toward the stone fireplace. There were several photos on the mantel. Kyle with his brothers, Travis and his family, Craig and his kids. Happy pictures. No women who weren't related. That was something.
There was a slight popping sound as the cork was released.
Sandy
flinched. She continued to stare at the photos as if her life depended on memorizing them.
She sensed the moment he entered the room. He didn't make any noise, or say anything, but she knew he was there. Behind her. Waiting.
"There's something you should know," she said, touching her finger to one of the wooden frames. She smiled at the picture of Kyle graduating from the police academy. How handsome and strong he looked in his uniform. "I've only ever done it, you know, the boring way."
"Okay."
"I mean, there was this one guy in college, but it was only a couple of times, and frankly I didn't like it very much. It was better with Thomas. At least I figured out what all the fuss was about. Sort of." She could feel herself blushing, but she had to get it out. It was only fair. Otherwise, he would be disappointed. She wanted him to know up front. So if he didn't want to anymore, she would know why.
"I know that you've been with lots of women," she continued. "I'm not sure I could, um, keep up. Or do anything strange. I'm not very adventurous. And I've had three children. I've got stretch marks." She thought about telling him that her breasts were a little saggy, too, but didn't think he would want to know that in advance. Maybe he wouldn't notice. If she was on her back when she took off her bra, it would be hard to tell, wouldn't it?
She cleared her throat. "So I'm sure you're thinking this is a bad idea. I wouldn't blame you. Really."
She heard a clinking sound. She thought he might be putting the champagne glasses on the coffee table, but she didn't want to turn around and see.
"I thought you were beautiful the first time I saw you and I still think that," Kyle murmured.
From the sound of his voice and faint puff of breath on her cheek, she knew he was standing right behind her. "But I'm not like them," she said, staring at the rocks that stretched to the ceiling. She touched their rough surface.
"Like who?"
"Those other women that you've been with. I don't know what you expect of me."
He put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to turn. She wanted to close her eyes, but she knew that was too cowardly. She would just have to face him and get it over with. She swallowed hard,
then
looked at him.
His face was taut with an emotion she could only describe as need. The corners of his mouth tilted up slightly, but his eyes burned with fire. He was close enough to touch, close enough for her to see the smooth line of his jaw, close enough for her to wonder if he'd shaved just before leaving with her to drop the kids off for camp. The thought pleased her.
He kept his hand on her shoulder. "What do you expect of me?" he asked.
"Huh? I don't expect anything." Well, except maybe that it was going to be wonderful between them.
He reached up and pulled the headband from her hair, then slipped his fingers through the loose strands. "I don't have any secret tricks. I won't do anything you haven't done before. There aren't going to be any surprises."
Ha, she thought grimly. He hadn't seen her naked.
He startled her by frowning. "No doubts,
Sandy
. They're not allowed. I've been waiting a long time for this moment."
She searched his eyes. "This isn't just about your crush, is it?"
"Of course it is. It's also about how I feel about you now, today, with both of us adults. I can't forget the past, but that's not all it's about." He smiled slightly. "Why can't you believe you turn me on?"
She felt the color flaring again on her cheeks. "I'm not the type who inspires grand passion."
He grabbed her hand and brought it to the fly of his jeans. She could feel the hard length pressing against her. "Who do you think inspired this?" he asked.
She squeezed him gently. Maybe it
was
real, she thought to herself. Maybe he did think she was attractive and maybe he really did want to make love with her. Maybe it was going to be all right. He certainly wasn't lying about his desire. It was hard to fake that large an arousal.
She rubbed her palm up and down the length of him. She swayed toward him, suddenly eager to find out how he would feel inside of her.
He groaned,
then
pulled her hand away. "I have two things to say."
She could feel the desire lapping at her body. It was faint at first, the slightest of tugs, but as she stood in front of him, staring at his perfect body, it grew until it was a riptide threatening to pull her under.
"Are you listening to me?" he asked.
"Uh-huh." Why was he talking so much?
"First, I haven't been with lots of women. Some. A few. In this day and age, it would be crazy to be indiscriminate. Second, I'm using protection."
She blinked. The desire faded in the reality of his pragmatic statement. "Protection?" Oh, God, she'd forgotten. After Nichole had been born, Thomas had taken care of birth control permanently. She hadn't had to think about it anymore. But Kyle wasn't Thomas and this was the nineties. "Protection?"
"You just said that."
She turned from him and started for the door. "I can't do this."
She got all the way to the entrance to the kitchen before she realized he wasn't going to stop her. She paused and glanced back at him. He was still standing where she'd left him, in front of the fireplace. Her gaze lowered to his bare feet. While he'd been pouring the champagne, he must have also taken off his cowboy boots. She'd never thought of a man's feet as sexy before, but she liked Kyle's. They were broad and strong. Like him.
On the coffee table, bubbles floated to the surface of the tulip-shaped glasses. She looked at him. He was waiting. Patiently. It was her decision.
"You'd let me walk out?" she asked.
"If that's what you want. No being swept away this time,
Sandy
. No excuses. If you want to make love with me, stay. If you're not sure, you should go." With that, he picked up the two glasses and carried them into the bedroom.
At least she assumed it was the bedroom. She'd never explored his house before. She stood there in silence, wondering when she'd become such a wimp. This wasn't a difficult decision. Of course she wanted Kyle. All that was holding her back were her own insecurities. And a faint voice that whispered she would be in big trouble if she was foolish enough to fall for him.
She was a grown woman. In all her thirty-two years, she'd never reacted to a man the way she reacted to him. No one had ever left her breathless before. She'd spent her whole life playing it safe, doing the right thing, the expected thing. For once, she'd promised herself to walk on the wild side. She raised her chin slightly and started after him.
There was a short hallway. On one side was an open door leading to a bathroom. On the other, a second door stood open. From where she was standing, she could see a dresser and the foot of a brass bed. Light filtered in through open-weave drapes of blue and rust. She stepped into the room.
It was a man's room. Large pieces of wooden furniture lined the wall. A dresser, a highboy and two nightstands. An overstuffed blue chair filled one corner. A rust-colored comforter had been pulled back, exposing cream-colored sheets. Kyle sat on one side of the king-size bed. He'd removed his shirt. Sunlight caught the smooth skin of his bare shoulders and highlighted the hair on his chest.
Sandy
's fingers curled into her palms.
He reached for the two glasses he'd left on the night-stand and handed her one. She crossed the room and took it from him. He didn't want her swept away. He wanted her aware of everything that was going on. Her breath caught in her throat. That wasn't going to be difficult. No way
she could
think about anything else.
She took a sip of the cool liquid. Bubbles tickled her nose and the back of her throat. She'd forgotten how much she liked champagne. He drank also. She watched his throat as he swallowed. The air in the room heated, as if someone had turned on the furnace. Or maybe it was just being so close to him.
Her gaze traveled over his bare chest. She wanted to touch him, taste him. She wanted to feel him next to her without the encumbrances of clothing, or worrying about privacy or interruptions. Her breathing increased.
Kyle took the glass from her and set it down next to his. Before she could figure out what he was going to do, he'd already reached for the hem of her T-shirt and was gently tugging the garment over her head. Thank goodness she'd had the foresight to put on her best underwear. Her bra and panties matched, probably for the first time in her life. They were both a pale pink with a print of roses woven into the fabric. The bra gave her a little extra support and made her looked chesty. She hoped Kyle appreciated her silhouette. She hadn't had dessert since she'd decided to send the children to camp and then indulge with Kyle. She'd been doing sit-ups, but doubted two weeks of diligence made up for years of neglect.
With practiced ease, without even turning her around or glancing behind her, he reached for the button and zipper of her denim skirt and unfastened them. A quick tug had that garment pooling around her feet.
"You've done this before," she said without thinking.
He grinned at her. "Once or twice."
Then he reached for her bra. She wanted to stop him. Her breasts weren't as perky as they had been when he'd fantasized about them sixteen years ago. If he even had fantasized about them. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her chest.