FATHER IN TRAINING (28 page)

"Wouldn't you rather I was lying down?" she asked.

He raised his eyebrows.

She realized what she'd said and wanted to die. Right now. If the floor would just open up and swallow her. But it didn't. "What I meant was…"

He waited, watching her,
grinning
that damn knowing smile of his.

"Fine," she said through gritted teeth and reached for the back fastener. "I'll just take it off. But don't say I didn't warn you." She unhooked the bra, slid it off her arms, and glared at him. Then she bent over and jerked her panties down to her ankles, then stepped out of them.

"Are you happy?" she asked. "Look." She brushed her palm against her belly. There were faint lines from her pregnancies. "I'm marked, wrinkled—" She pointed to her breasts. "Definitely past perky. I could probably stand to lose ten pounds."

This was awful. The most embarrassing moment of her life. "I'm going home now," she said and started for the door.

"Naked?" Kyle asked.

She reached the doorway and stopped. "You're supposed to stop me. You're supposed to lie and say all those things don't matter, that I'm really the most beautiful woman you've ever seen."

As if her humiliation wasn't complete, she could feel tears burning in her eyes. She
never
cried. She refused to start now. About this.

"Are you done?" he asked.

She sniffed. "I think so."

"Good."

She shrieked as he came up behind her and lifted her in his arms. She supposed most women reacted well to being
carried,
however she didn't like the feeling of being up in the air. She clung to Kyle's neck until she was probably choking the poor man, and kicked her feet as if that would help propel them the short distance to the bed.

He knelt on the mattress and lowered her. When her head touched the pillow, he stretched out beside her. "What happened to Sensible Sandy?" he asked.

"I think she got packed with the kids' stuff by accident."

"I like this
Sandy
, too."

"Really?" Her mouth twisted. "You're just saying that because you're afraid I'm going to cry."

"Are you?"

His dark eyes promised her the world, yet she was afraid. "Maybe."

"Only tears of joy," he said quietly and reached for the champagne.

She expected him to take a sip, or offer her one. Instead, he held the glass over her midsection and tipped it until a stream of bubbly liquid poured onto her belly. The shock of cold made her jump.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "It's wet."

He grinned.

Kyle rose to his knees,
then
bent over her. He licked at the champagne. She stared at him in disbelief,
then
collapsed back on the pillows. It was a contrast of temperatures and textures. The bubbles tickled, his mouth was smooth. The champagne cooled her
skin,
his tongue heated her to melting. He drank the liquid from her belly, licking the last drops from around her hipbones,
then
he moved between her knees and stared down at her.

"You still doubt," he said, then held out his hands. She glanced at his fingers,
then
looked closer. They trembled.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because it's you. It's always been you."

The beauty of his face made her heart beat faster. He was male to her female, experienced to her awkwardness, and she wanted him more than she wanted to draw her next breath. For some reason she would never understand, he also wanted her. He thought she was special. Perhaps it was the past, or some combination of chemistry. Perhaps it was just dumb luck. Whatever the reason, she, an ordinary woman with nothing special to set her apart from the thousands of other ordinary women in this world, had worked magic on him. She made him tremble. Saggy breasts and stretch marks, three kids and a slight need to organize the world. She was done trying to explain it away. If he wanted her that much, far be it from her to deny him.

She opened her arms and spoke his name.

She was all he'd dreamed she would be
,
Kyle thought as he lowered himself to kiss her. She tasted of champagne and promises. She was hot and willing, tentative and bold, all things. She was his world.

He angled his mouth and sought entrance to hers. She parted for him. When his tongue touched hers, he felt the jolt clear down to his groin. His arousal surged painfully against the fly of his jeans. He would keep them on until the very end. He'd been ready since the moment she'd agreed to send her kids to camp. He'd been anticipating this moment since he'd woken up that morning. He had a bad feeling that if he took his jeans off, he would be compelled to plunge inside of her and explode like an adolescent. He wanted more than that for her. He wanted to be perfect.

To that end, he kissed her slowly. He touched her shoulders and her arms, rubbing his palms up and down on her smooth skin. She was softer than he'd imagined any woman could be. Her curves yielded to him.

He kissed her mouth, then her jaw and her ear. Her hands clutched at his back. He liked the way she held on to him as if she feared he would go away. If only she knew the truth. He had no other world save her.

After licking her earlobe and making her giggle and squirm beneath him, he trailed his mouth down her neck to her chest. Her breathing increased. Her body tightened in anticipation. He moved his hands from her arms to her waist,
then
slipped them higher, up her rib cage to her breasts.

She arched into his touch. Her hips came up off the bed and her fingers dug into his back. He raised his head slightly so he could see what he was doing.

His long tanned fingers contrasted with her pale skin. Her nipples were dark pink and already hard. He cupped her breasts, learning their shape and texture. They moved in his hands, soft and supple. She writhed beneath him, her legs tangling with his, her hips rising to meet him and taunt him with a brief caress. Around and around, he circled, close to the taut peaks, but not touching. Then he released her and reached for the champagne.

Her eyes opened and she watched him take a sip. Her lips parted. He bent down and took her right nipple in his mouth. She gasped. The liquid had cooled his skin slightly. He suckled her, loving the taste of her. She was sweeter than the champagne, more intoxicating.

He repeated the procedure, this time filling his mouth with the liquid and then letting the bubbles explode against her nipples. She called his name. Her arms fell to her sides and she clawed at the sheet. He traced a trail of dampness to her belly button, then back to her breasts. He loved her there, over and over, until her breath came in pants and her hips were permanently plastered against him.

He taunted them both by moving back and forth against her center. Several times he had to stop because he was about to explode. He could feel the pressure building, so he backed off.

He bathed her thighs in champagne,
then
licked her clean. He dipped her fingers into the slender glass and suckled them. Her eyes glazed over, her head tossed from side to side. At last, when perspiration coated her body and she had drawn her knees back to expose her most secret place to him, he reached between them and touched her there.

Just once. Very lightly. The tip of his index finger found her center and rubbed it. Then again. She gasped. Her eyes opened, but she couldn't seem to focus.

"What are you doing?" she asked weakly.

"Trying to drive you crazy. How am I doing?"

She smiled. "Great. Except you lied to me."

"When?"

"You said it wasn't going to be different." She blinked and looked at him. "It is. It's wonderful. Why are you being so good to me?"

Because you mean everything to me.
Only he didn't say that. Instead, he touched her again, in her most feminine place, and she forgot the question. He touched her over and over until she was begging him for release. He bent over her and kissed her breasts, even as his fingers moved faster and faster, even as her hips began to rotate in the age-old rhythm of desire.

He shifted until he was lying next to her, supporting his head with one hand. He stared at her face, at the way her breasts moved, at the faint lines on her belly. Every inch of her was precious to him.

His forearm was against her thigh and he could feel her muscles tensing as she neared her release. He moved faster.

Her lips parted. A flush started at her breasts and climbed toward her face. He glanced at the place he touched her. His fingers slipped back and forth, parting the light brown curls. Her knees drew back toward her chest and he could see all of her. His throat tightened as he stared at her beauty, at the tiny place that brought her pleasure, at the dampness that would soon welcome him home. He felt the moment when her muscles locked and heard her stop breathing. He continued his quick, light ministrations.

Then she exhaled his name. Beneath his forearm her legs trembled and jerked slightly. Her hands opened and closed against the sheets. He glanced at her face and watched her try to catch her breath. The flush had climbed to her hairline, her nipples were erect. Satisfaction poured through him, as if the pleasure had been solely his. He wished they could do it again and again until he learned everything about her. He wanted to make love to her until she was too weak to walk or even stand.

Instead, he drew her close to him. He held her tightly in his arms as she continued to shake. He released her long enough to brush away the tears that trickled down her temples and kiss the questions from her lips.

"It's never been like that," she said, staring up at him.

The gladness filling him made it impossible to speak.

After a few minutes, she pushed him away. "Take your clothes off," she demanded. "I want to see you."

He grinned and stood up. He was shaking so hard, he had trouble with the buttons on his fly, but he got them undone and pushed the jeans and his briefs down in one quick movement.
Sandy
knelt on the bed in front of him, staring at his arousal.

He wanted her to lie down or move back or something, but she just knelt there staring. It was going to be a problem in about two minutes, he thought. Already the pressure was uncomfortable. Soon it would be uncontrollable.

"
Sandy
, I can't wait much longer," he said. "I hate to be a jerk, but you've had me like this since the day you arrived and a cold shower can only do so much."

She raised her gaze to his. "Really? I turn you on that much?"

"You tell me."

"Can I touch you?" she asked, reaching toward him.

"No!" He stepped back. "That wouldn't be a good idea. Not unless you want me to ah—"

She raised her eyebrows. "As fast as that? Gee, I'm surprised. I would have thought you'd be more controlled." She scooted back on the bed.

"I have damn
good
control," he growled, bending down and pulling a condom out of his jeans' pocket. "You make me sound like some horny kid. It's not like that. It's just this situation has been difficult from the beginning."

"I understand," she said kindly. "You don't have to explain it to me."

"Dammit, woman."

She giggled. "I'm teasing. Come
on,
let's take care of your little problem."

"You said it was big," he grumbled as he opened the package and started to slide on the condom. He was still shaking, so it wasn't an elegant procedure, but when it was finally fitted in place, he moved to the bed.

Sandy
was grinning up at him. She moved to the far side and relaxed back against the pillows. Her hair was loose around her face, her body naked to his gaze, her thighs parted in welcome.

"You're the most incredible woman I've ever known," he said, moving across the bed and kneeling between her legs. "I swear I'll make it up to you."

Her pupils dilated. "You already did. This is just for you."

She reached down and touched him. He about exploded right then and there, but managed to salvage a little control, just enough to press into her. Heat surrounded him as she stretched to accommodate him. She wiggled her hips and he almost lost it again.