Out of Bounds (17 page)

Or maybe I don’t dare?

Her pulse pounded...her blood rushed double
speed. She raised her hands to her face. Pressed her fingers
against suddenly sensitive lips. Glanced at him with eyes that
couldn’t hold his for longer than a second.

No— this is utterly mad—I can’t do it!

Anton sensed her panic and crossed the room
in two long strides before she could turn and bolt. He tipped her
chin up with one finger and gazed down at her woebegone face.

God—I’m all psyched up for this and now she’s
lost her nerve.

“We can stop any time you want,” he
murmured.

Although it will probably kill me...

She nodded, but it was only the barest of
nods.

Forcing himself to move slowly, he placed his
hands on the collar of her shirt and then ran them down past the
buttonholes and buttons until he was level with her breasts. He did
a button up. “You can let go that death-grip now,” he said,
glancing down to where her arms hugged the shirt close around her
body.

“But...”

“I’m not going to rip it off you. I’m not
even going to lift it up.”

“But...”

He sank to his haunches until he was
squatting in front of her. Lower. Subservient. Less frightening, he
hoped. “I’m going to explore you through it. Get to know all your
beautiful curves and hollows.”

He watched as her lips parted and an
expression of profound relief crept across her face. Her grip
relaxed a little. “I’d better kneel,” he added. “I’ll fall over
like this.” He steadied himself with a hand on either side of her
waist and knelt, but kept his hands right where he’d deliberately
placed them.

He trailed his fingers out over her hips and
back in to her waist. Out again. In again.

“Perfect,” he murmured, lowering his face to
her belly and kissing her through the shirt. He laid his cheek
against her and closed his eyes, continuing the gentle caresses
over her sides. Jetta’s hands crept up to touch his hair. Softly at
first, and then with more confidence.

His tightly strung nerves loosened a
fraction. Maybe he could make it happen for her.

“Are you wearing something pretty under
this?” he queried, touching the narrow side-strap of her thong
through the shirt, and running a finger backward and forward along
it.

“It was a present,” she said. “Bren and
Hallie bought me some gorgeous panties for a goodbye gift, but they
gave them to me early because of the fire.”

His hands descended a little until he could
brush his fingers down her thighs, then up and down again in a
hypnotic rhythm. To distract her from what he was doing, he turned
his head and kissed her belly again—this time finding a sliver of
bare skin now her hands were occupied in his hair. Her indrawn
breath told him she’d noticed.

He inhaled long and slow, drawing her scent
deep into his lungs.

“You have no idea how lovely you are,” he
whispered, nudging her shirt aside and laying his face against her
skin. He smoothed his cheek to and fro, then glanced up, checking
for any sign of alarm.

She’d closed her eyes, but her fingers
continued to play in his hair. His traveled up her thighs, and in
under the shirt tails until he was high enough to stroke her curvy
butt.

“Still fine?” he murmured.

She made a tiny noise that could have meant
anything. One hand left his hair and began to wrestle with the
shirt button he’d done up.

Elation roared through him as the two sides
of the shirt fell apart. The curve of a beautiful breast peeped
out. His mouth watered. He imagined his lips closing around the
still-hidden nipple. Ruthlessly he suppressed his desire and
continued the soft kisses over her belly.

This is for her. Keep it for her until she’s
begging.

His hands cupped her butt, stroking and
kneading. Did she trust him yet? Hoping she did, he slid his thumbs
under the side straps of her thong.

Stealthily he pushed upwards, dragging the
front panel tight against her so he could lower his face, lick over
the sheer fabric, and set her nerves on fire.

Jetta lurched in his arms and gave a ragged
cry—a soft scream that sent thrills rocketing through him. Maybe
that would help break through her long held dark inhibitions and
show her the intensity of the pleasure he could bring.

He kissed her there, holding the fabric taut,
feeling her tremble. She tried to wriggle away, but with no real
conviction. He buried his mouth against the lace, searching with
the tip of his tongue until he felt the little nub of her clit. He
sucked, released, sucked again.

“No…”

“
Let
me,” he growled, raising his head for a
moment. Her eyes blazed huge and dark in the candlelight. She
panted, breasts rising and falling between the open shirt-fronts.
“You’ve missed out for years and years. Let me. Let me make up for
some of that time.”

Jetta floated somewhere in the swirling
steam. Her bones had melted. Her knees no longer wanted to hold her
up. Everywhere Anton’s lips made contact, her skin sparkled and
flickered with out-of-this-world sensitivity.

Deep in her belly, the insistent throb had
almost reached the point of pain. She writhed in his arms, trying
to get even closer to him...to
it
... to whatever huge
sensation wanted to break free from her body.

Then he stopped. “Bath time,” he
murmured.

“What?” she gasped, not noticing he’d slid
the concealing shirt from her shoulders until it was too late to
grab it back.

He cradled her breasts, brushing his thumbs
over her bullet-hard nipples. “Look at you,” he said, dipping his
head to give each a hot, wet kiss. Bolts of delight ricocheted
around her body and she stared at him, astounded. He smiled and
hooked his thumbs into her tiny panties. In a trice, they were
around her ankles, and she stood before him naked, embarrassed,
ready to run, but desperate to stay.

He rose to his feet and offered her his hand.
She grabbed it for support, found enough courage to stay, and
stepped into the deep bath. She sank into the concealing bubbles,
astounded she’d come this far without losing her nerve.

“You’re still all covered up,” she objected,
heart hammering because it seemed she really, really might be able
to hold her nerves in check.

“Not for much longer,” he murmured, loosening
the tie of his robe. “Shuffle forward.”

As she concentrated on that, Anton arrived
behind her—big and warm, and definitely now wearing nothing but
skin.

“Cuddle up,” he said, looping his long legs
around her waist and pulling her backward against him. A tanned arm
reach out for the container of body wash. His lips glided down her
neck. He’d cocooned her in a haze of warmth and shadowy darkness
and slippery sensation.

He lathered his hands and smoothed them up
her arms and over her shoulders, massaging and caressing, pushing
with his thumbs until the knots of tension melted away. “Bend
over,” he whispered, and she swayed forward so he could progress
down her back and around her ribs until he cradled her breasts
again. He teased her nipples with slippery fingers. Nothing seemed
hurried or urgent. Nothing felt grabby or grasping. She stretched
voluptuously, and sighed.

Much later, she murmured, “I want to turn
around.”

To her amazement, Anton grasped her around
the ribs and flipped her so she sat on his thighs—higher out of the
water than before.

His eyes zeroed in on her nipples, just
visible through the lacy foam when she looked down. “I knew you’d
be beautiful,” he said, voice husky as he splashed warm water over
her to wash the bubbles away.

He cupped one breast, bent forward, and
suckled. Arrows of purest pleasure shot straight down to her womb.
The urgent throbbing there intensified, and spread out in circles
of need and frustration until she groaned aloud and cradled his
head in her hands to hold him close. “I never thought,” she gasped,
“that it would be like this.”

“It’ll be like everything you’ve ever
wanted,” he murmured a little later as he strung tiny kisses up
over her collarbone to her neck, and finally her lips.

She met him kiss for kiss.

Anton grumbled as Jetta pushed him back
against the sloping end of the big old bath.

“No—it’s my turn,” she said, levering herself
further forward.

The nearest candle flames danced in the
moving air. Shadows changed their shapes on the walls.

“We’ve been here so long we need more hot
water,” she added, swiveling to turn on the tap, slippery and rosy,
her back arching to tilt her delicious breasts further into the
light.

He smiled to himself. Getting assertive, was
she?

Then his smile faded. He no longer had any
concerns about the ultimate success of his seduction, but somehow
she was halfway to seducing him in return. Saying goodbye would be
hell.

Jetta turned toward him again, reached for
the body wash, and lathered her hands up the way he’d done. She
leaned over him, an expression of sexy intent on her face as her
palms traveled across his chest—kneading, sliding, appreciating.
“You’re lovely,” she whispered. “Every time you’ve taken your shirt
off I’ve wanted to touch you. And now I can without asking.”

Her hands rose higher—out over his shoulders
in a slippery caress, then down his arms until she linked her
fingers into his. She gazed into his eyes, her expression
shuttered, intense, and thrilling. “When you kissed me in bed last
night I nearly made a terrible fool of myself,” she added. “I
thought I wanted you. I
did
want you, but I bet I would have
got spooked and wrecked everything.” She bent and kissed his mouth
again softly. “I didn’t know how much deeper wanting could be. Now
my whole body wants you, so much that I’m aching inside, and if we
don’t do this soon I’ll probably die.”

Anton slipped a hand from hers and drew her
down for a much more serious kiss.

“You promise to be gentle with me?” he teased
a little later as he reached for a nearby towel.

He made a game of it—kissing every piece of
her as he dried it, dragging his lips down over her hipbone,
nipping her delicious butt, sucking her fingers and having to dry
them all over again. Jetta had objected to him covering himself,
but had he ever been harder? He thanked God for the flickering
dimness. When he glanced down, he couldn’t believe the big ridge
under the towel wasn’t spooking her.

They carried the candles back to the bedroom
and set them safely on his desk. The unlovely old room hardly had
the atmosphere he would have chosen, but here they were, and
Jetta’s big eyes were full of anticipation—and maybe trepidation
too.

He peeled off the shirt she’d worn in lieu of
a robe, trailing his fingers over her shoulders as he pushed the
fabric away. “You feel like silk,” he murmured, tossing it aside
and bending to kiss her yet again. The candles flickered in the
disturbed air, and shadows swayed on the walls. Her breasts pressed
soft and warm against him as he kissed her brow.

She raised a hand and explored the hair on
his chest. “You feel tickly,” she countered. “But you’re very silky
underneath.” Her nails scraped gently over his skin.

He smiled and took her hand, pulling her onto
the wide expanse of his bed. Sitting beside her, he stroked her
hair and kissed the side of her face until he reached the sensitive
pulse-point on her neck. “Lie down for me.”

“Already?”

He heard the slight tremor in her voice as he
settled her back against the pillows, and felt the tension increase
in the muscles of her arms. A tiny twitch flickered at the corner
of one of her eyes.

Not so relaxed then. Damn.

He shook his head. “No—not yet. I want to
explore you first.” He pushed himself further down the bed to give
her time to regain her courage. Ran a hand along a thigh toned to
perfection. Heard the tiny catch of her indrawn breath.

“What kind of dancing do you do?” He smoothed
his fingers up toward her hip, down again, up again.

“Latin. Samba…rumba…jive. Oh!” She jumped as
he strayed higher.

“I bet you’re a fantastic dancer. A natural.”
He stroked her curls; waiting to see what her response would be.
Vanilla fragrance drifted in the air from the candles. But far more
enticing was the faint scent of warm woman rising from those dark
curls. He breathed her in, and a wave of wanting jolted through his
groin. He leaned lower, laid his cheek on her belly, turned to kiss
the soft skin there.

“Anton…”

“You liked it when I kissed you in the
bathroom.”

“But that was through my panties…”

He nuzzled at her, trying to ease her legs
apart, loving her fresh female musk, desperate to taste. A
tentative hand touched his hair. “This is the rumba,” he whispered.
“A sensuous dance between two people. Yes?” He pressed a kiss
lower, lower, swiped with his tongue. “Pretend we’re dancing.”

Jetta’s thighs tensed. “Oh God—it’s like the
book!”

He raised his head. Ran his eyes all the way
up her curvy body until he locked onto her astounded gaze. “What
book?”

“Um. Oh. Just a book.” She clasped a hand
across her mouth so only her big guilty eyes were visible. The
fingers of her other hand stilled in his hair.

He sent her a teasing grin. “Have you been
reading sexy books, Jetta Rivers?”

“No,” she insisted. “Not really.” She
swallowed.

Total giveaway honey!

He dipped his head and licked again, keeping
his eyes on hers. Her mouth dropped open, but no sound emerged.
“What book?” he murmured. “No more of this until you tell me.” He
licked once more to show her what she’d be missing, and her thighs
relaxed a little.

“Just…um…’The Joy of Sex’.” She squeezed her
eyes closed. “I found it…ooohhh….” She let loose a soft groan and
her eyes shot wide open again as he turned his head and rasped his
chin across her thigh. “Um…I found it when I was clearing out
Gran’s wardrobe. It was very dusty.”