Hot and Irresistible (9 page)

“You know, as nice as this is, and it is damn nice, what about the Ray Cleveland issue and us? Ray is still an issue? What if they won’t let me off the case? I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning.”

“I like the
us
part and I really like the morning part.” She gave him a quick kiss, then scrunched up her face. “Ray Cleveland? Who’s Ray Cleveland?”

“And I like the answer.” He kissed her, one of those long lingering kisses that set her on fire and said he forgot who Ray Cleveland was, too. “You’re welcome for tonight. I’m glad I was here to help out.” He kissed her again. “I’m hoping the night’s not over.”

Bebe could feel her cheeks redden. “You should know I don’t crawl into bed or onto a couch or especially a kitchen table with just every guy. Two guys, actually, counting you, and I probably wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for Prissy and her spells that never seem to work right. After the kitchen encounter, I wanted something to keep us apart because…well…after the kitchen table you weren’t going to be that easy to stay away from.”

He gave her a sly smile. “Really?”

“Kitchen tables are my new favorite piece of furniture. Anyway, I considered skunk perfume, but then Prissy said she could cast a spell on me to keep us apart and I’m talking too much?”

“Remind me to thank Prissy.” He kissed her, this time with tongue to make things more interesting. Not tentatively at all, he slid his strong arm under her waist and pulled her on top of him.

“Am I squashing you?” She tried to push her hair back, but it kept falling down and Donovan didn’t mind it being in the way. “I’m not exactly a shrimp.”

“How did we get here, Bebe Fitzgerald?”

“Some piece of crud broke into my apartment and Daisy got her leg broken.”

He laughed outright this time. It was one of those
I’m glad we have all night
kind of laughs that she never heard from a man before but she recognized anyway, just like any woman would. But she wasn’t all that sure what to do next. What were woman supposed to do when they got into this position? What was the next step?

“What’s going on? I can tell your brain’s working overtime.”

“This is virgin territory for me, not that I’m a virgin, and of course you’d know that. So, what do you want me to do? Not that I’d know how to do it, but I can probably figure it out and—”

He placed his finger over her lips, his eyes staring deeply into hers. “Do whatever you want to. If you want to sleep, we can do that, if not we can do that, too.”

He kissed the spot where he’d put his finger. “I’m on vacation; I have all the time in the world, Bebe Fitzgerald. What do you want?”

A
nd he did have all the time in the world, Donovan realized. He was taking time to figure out what the hell he should be doing and right now being with Bebe was perfect. “I should have taken this vacation months ago.”

“Rough days at the office?” She studied his face, looking into his eyes, rubbing her fingers over his chin and cheeks. Enjoying him as much as he liked being with her. And he did, he realized. More than any other woman he’d ever been with. She was independent and anything but clingy or needy. “I need to figure some stuff out.”

“And you’re doing it at the right place,” she whispered in his ear, her hot breath on his neck driving him nuts. “It is a proven fact that foods made with cream and butter and fried are best for coming up with great answers to tough problems. You can clog your arteries with chicken and biscuits and grits and you’ll see the light.”

“That would be the EMS unit taking me away with a heart attack.”

She laughed and kissed his chin. “This is fun. Almost worth getting broken into.”

He moved his hands under Bebe’s baggy sweater, her skin smooth and so warm. He unsnapped her bra, the flimsy material parting across her back, a barely discernible sigh escaping her lips and her eyes catching fire as she stared at him. Then suddenly the fire died, replaced by…worry?

“I wish I had my clothes already off, then I wouldn’t have to figure out how to go about doing it. I mean, when a girl is with a guy like this, there should be some degree of sexiness in taking off her clothes, not just flinging clothes around the room anywhere.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before.”

“You’ve probably never bedded such an inexperienced woman before.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” He bunched her sweater around her rib cage. “Put your hands over your head.”

This time she laughed. “Now there’s a line we’ve both heard plenty.” She laid her head on his chest and he tugged off her sweater, taking her bra, too. He dropped both on the floor. “I think I’m naked.”

“With minimal amount of flinging. I like your breasts where I can see them and touch them.”

She folded her hands under her chin and peered at him, her eyes smoky. “I like it, too, and I’m not embarrassed by any of this, and I get embarrassed if I even kiss a guy. You make this so easy, or maybe I’m too tired to get embarrassed.”

“It is easy, if you’re with the right guy,” he said while dragging his fingertips down her spine. He stopped at the small of her back by the waistband of her jeans. Bebe had been around the block, but not by much and Donovan guessed he was responsible for most of that journey. He didn’t know that before in the kitchen or he wouldn’t have come on like a rutting moose. But he knew now. “Before we go any further, you have to want this as much as I do, Bebe.”

She grinned wickedly, then planted a kiss on his chest. He felt the heat of her lips clear through his T-shirt. “I want it more,” she said, her breath making him warm all over. “I want you more than anything and I am so glad you’re vacationing in Savannah.”

She levered her torso up, her sex pressing against his dick and her breasts suspended inches from his mouth. One little taste was all he wanted. Yeah, who the hell was he kidding, he wanted a lot more than a taste. “Are you teasing me?”

“I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that kind of girl. You can count on me. I don’t like playing games.”

“This is a different kind of game, and it’s okay to play, since we both win.” He licked the tip of her right nipple, because there was just so much temptation a man could take. She shuddered, her shoulders quivering, her eyes not focusing. “You have some dynamite shape.”

“I don’t know much, Donovan, but I know a B cup is not dynamite.” She crawled off him and stood. Moonlight creeping in through the blinds silhouetted her bare breasts, sublime body, and tumbled hair. She belonged on the cover of some fashion magazine that made other women eat their hearts out. She unsnapped her jeans and they slipped right off her hips and over her legs, pooling around her ankles. The advantage of jeans three sizes too large.

“Do you have any idea how incredibly beautiful you are?” Though he’d seen shorts on other women that revealed more then Bebe’s white cotton…underwear. No way could he call her panties lingerie.

“You don’t have to flatter me to get me into bed, Donovan,” she said with a nervous laugh, her gaze dropping to the floor as if looking at him made her suddenly nervous as hell. “I think that’s a forgone conclusion. I’m mostly naked already.” She gave another nervous laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all. Damn, she was doing so well and then suddenly…

He got off the couch and stood in front of her. “Look at me, Bebe.” He tucked his forefinger under her chin and raised her face to his. “Someone…Dara, I’m guessing…did a number on you. While you were growing up she saw you were a real beauty, more lovely than any of her other kids, if she had any. She never bought you nice clothes, hand-me-downs mostly, made fun of you in front of the other kids, never got involved in any of your school stuff, barely acknowledged you were alive. Any of this sound familiar?”

She stared at him with a blank look that slowly morphed into understanding the more he talked. “I never really thought about that. How did you know?”

“I met Dara. I’m willing to bet all your friends know, too, they just didn’t know how to fix it, to fix you.” He scooped her into his arms. “But they never had you alone and naked.”

Her eyes widened and she tensed all over. “Maybe this isn’t such a great idea. I’m just a girl. It’s just me, Bebe the string bean. There’s nothing to fix, Donovan. What are you going to do? Why don’t we just have sex and it’ll be over?”

He gave her another reassuring kiss and held her a little tighter. “I’m going to love you slow and easy at first, then when you get used to that and like it, we’ll go on, but at no time will
get it over with
come into play. Lovemaking is not to be rushed.”

He stepped over books, pillows, dishes, and a turned-over footstool to the French doors separating the hall from the kitchen. He set her down and stood behind her, the dim light offering a reflection of Bebe.

“What are we doing?”

What he was doing was getting really turned on in spite of the bloomers. But this was not about him. “I want you to look at yourself, really look. I want you to believe to the bottom of your lovely toes that you are a beautiful woman.”

“The toes are a size nine-and-a-half, Donovan. I could water-ski on these things if I knew how to water-ski. Can we just get back to the couch? We were doing pretty good back there.”

He put his hands on her hips. “These are lovely.” He cupped her ass, making her gasp as he gave a gentle squeeze. “This is lovely.” He stroked his hands up her sides. “You have the shoulders and long neck of a runway model and your face is incredible. Your eyes are an amazing shade of blue. Your lips are full and lush and made for kissing. Your body is exquisite in every way. I don’t want you ever to think of yourself as a string bean again.”

“I’m not that much shorter than you, and my ears are huge, that’s why I never wear my hair up, Bebe Dumbo, and I have no boobs worth considering and—”

“And you are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” He pulled her hair up on top of her head, then kissed one ear, then the other and swore if he ever got Dara in a dark alley he’d strangle her with his bare hands. “And your breasts are faultless.” He ran his palms along the sides of each, bringing them together in front, forming delicious cleavage. He rubbed the pad of his thumbs over the nipples, feeling them bead with desire.

Her mouth fell open in simple sexual pleasure and she leaned back into him, staring at him for a second in the reflection. Was any of what he said sinking in at all? Maybe? A little? “I think,” she finally said. “What makes me beautiful is you thinking I am.”

“What makes you beautiful is you thinking you are.”

She turned around and kissed his cheek. “I appreciate this, I really do. I’m over Dara, I just have a few residual reactions. And I’m probably not as ugly as she thinks I am, but I know I’m not as pretty as you think I am.”

“I can’t undo Dara’s poison in one night, but I can start by making love to you the way a man makes love to a beautiful woman.” He took her back up into his arms, then placed her on the couch. He sat on the edge of the cushion just as she had done before when she crawled in beside him. “And someday you’ll realize everything I’m telling you tonight is true. You’ll call me up in Boston and say, ‘Hey, Yank, I’m one hot chick.’”

She laughed, her eyes dancing, and it made him feel good all over. He pulled his shirt over his head and did the flinging thing she mentioned before. Then he kissed her, her breasts pressing against his chest, her slender arms reaching around his back and holding on to him as if he were the only guy in the world.

“This isn’t fair,” she said in a breathless voice, her eyes smoldering, her lips still on his. “I’m naked and you’re not.” He felt her shaky fingers undoing his belt. “You’ve stroked and touched and played with every part of me.”

He slid his hands under her derriere and pulled her body down to a lying position. “Not every part.” His hand slid between her legs, feeling her damp heat. “Not every part at all,” his voice low and husky as his brain melted. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room, his lungs straining. He stood and grabbed two handfuls of her panties—enough material to make a damn dress—and pulled them off. Wadding them up, he threw them across the room.

She pushed herself up on her elbows, looking indignant. “Hey, those are new.”

“Sweet pea, those are ugly.” Did he really just call her sweet pea? He sat down and draped one of her lovely legs across his lap, the other now behind him.

“And you still have on your clothes.”

“And you don’t and right now let’s go with that.” He bent his head and licked her clit. Her gasp cut through the silence of the room, her legs at his shoulders, now tensing, then relaxed, then spreading wide giving him full access, her hips arching off the couch with each lick of his tongue.

She was wet and ready and he wanted her more than ready. This was for Bebe, all for her. She moaned, then whimpered, his tongue plunging again and again till an orgasm shook her body, her cries of completion filling his head. She grabbed his shoulders as she cried out his name.

He kissed her, her lips devouring his. “How did you do that?” she finally managed, her voice ragged and broken.

“I’ll show you again.” Standing, he pulled off his jeans and briefs. Her gaze cleared, focusing on his erection. “You’re right, that is some show.” She swallowed, her eyes wide and wanting.

He got a condom from his wallet and covered himself. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman as much as I want you right now, Bebe.” He lay on top of her, mesmerized by the feel of her warm damp body moving seductively under his in perfect unison. He smoothed back her hair, amazed she was ready for him so quickly. “You were made for sex.”

“Uh, that would be you. I can feel the evidence between my legs.” Then she took his mouth in a hungry kiss and he slid into her wide-open wet passage. Embracing his middle with her long legs, she held him tight to her, meeting every thrust. Another orgasm made her tremble in his arms, then she arched higher, taking in his full length and letting him find his own release. No orgasm had ever been like this, so complete, so fulfilling, so memorable.

She cuddled up against him, her face to his neck as he pulled the throw over them together on the couch. She said, “You know all that talk about Southern girls not liking Yankee boys? Well, I think the problem is those Southern girls never slept with a Yankee boy…man. Definitely man.”

“And I’ve just made love to the most incredible woman.”

“Now what do we do?”

“We sleep.” He planted a kiss on her hair as her body relaxed in slumber against his. But there was more, he knew that. Where did they go from here? All he knew for sure was that Bebe Fitzgerald had to fit into his plans someway. He wasn’t letting her go, and he wasn’t leaving.

And falling asleep in Donovan’s arms was the last thing Bebe remembered till she woke, morning sun peeking in through the blinds, two cats meowing as if starvation was imminent and one cat with the smallest cast on the planet looking more pitiful than any animal had a right to. “I should rename you Tiny Tim.” The aroma of coffee wafted in from the kitchen and she realized her phone was lying next to her, a note underneath.

“Good Lord, I slept through all this?” She must have been in a coma. Tucking Daisy under her arm, she stumbled her way to the kitchen as Sunday bells from the Baptist, Methodist, and Catholic churches tried to outdo each other. It was the Savannah way; martinis on Saturday night, repent Sunday morning. If Donovan went to tell the captain about the vacation, Donovan must be really serious about it…about her.