Something About Joe (17 page)

Joe shrugged
his broad, powerful shoulders. His face was in half-darkness in the
car but she could see his blue eyes gleaming with good humor
and—was she imagining it?—tenderness. He tilted her chin upward.
“Did you think I’d let you down?”

Her heart
leaped with a new and unexpected joy. Joe had cut his hair and put
on a hateful suit and tie for her. His only reason for doing it was
to please her. Because he knew how important appearances were in
the corporate world in which she moved.

His simple gesture made her feel special,
more special and important than she ever had in her life.

“I’m glad you didn’t take out your earring,”
she said.

He grinned. “That would have been taking
things too far.”

Allison
laughed and he took her hand in his. She reveled in the warmth and
strength of it as his fingers intertwined with hers.

She remembered how his hands had felt on her
body, caressing her breasts, awakening her body to passions she’d
never felt before. She could hardly breathe as the excited
anticipation of how this evening might end built up inside her.

H
ow he sat there simply holding
Allison’s hand Joe didn’t know. What he really wanted to do was
make love to her right there and then, on the ample back seat of
the limo.

Was she as
naive as she seemed, or didn’t she realise that dress had a look of
lingerie about it? Combine that with the messed-up hair and a man
couldn’t help but think this is how she’d look emerging from her
bedroom after a night of loving. She looked lovelier than he’d ever
seen her.

He had to
resist his primitive urge to take her shawl and cover the alluring
swell of her breasts from other men’s eyes. But hell. Who cared if
Clive and the other guys ogled her? They could look and long for
her all they liked. She was with him.

He wasn’t
questioning why or how this woman had so quickly become so
important to him. He wasn’t looking at the impact meeting her might
have on his carefully mapped out plans for his future. He wasn’t
looking any further ahead than the evening.

Right now,
what he had to concentrate on was stopping himself from staring too
blatantly at the line of her long slender legs under that clinging,
silky dress. When she walked it swished around her legs and molded
to her shapely bottom.

Was she
wearing a garter belt underneath its silky folds? He wanted to
bunch that skirt up over her knees, slide his hand up her thighs
and find out.

Instead, he
pulled her to him and kissed her as thoroughly as he could in the
few minutes before the car got them to their destination, exulting
in her eager response and the light of passionate promise that
shone from her eyes.

T
he first person Allison saw as
she and Joe walked into the crowded ballroom of one of Sydney’s
best hotels was Peter, her ex-husband.

She gritted
her teeth. She’d known he would be probably be there; he worked at
a rival bank. But she’d hoped she wouldn’t find herself anywhere
near him. Peter caught her eye, looked her up and down so
appraisingly it was almost insulting, then lifted a hand in
greeting without coming any nearer.

Allison felt
the same mix of pain and anger she always felt on the rare
occasions she encountered her ex-husband. She’d loved him once, but
now she almost hated him for the cruel way he’d treated her and the
way he’d left her with the debts she was struggling to pay. If he
weren’t Mitchell’s father she’d never want anything to do with him
again.

Joe’s face was grim. He’d obviously
recognized Peter from his photos.

“So that’s the bastard who walked out on you
and Mitchell.”

She nodded.
“A
t that stage it was just me. I was...I
was pregnant.”

“That makes it even worse. And now he’s too
gutless to even come over and say hello.”

Allison was
indifferent to Peter as a man now, but she had trouble coming to
terms with his heartlessness toward his son.

Joe’s mouth set into a tight line as he
watched Peter through narrowed eyes. He took a step in Peter’s
direction, his hands bunched into fists. “I’d like to teach him
some manners.”

Allison caught him by the arm. “Don’t say
anything.” She couldn’t bear it if any unpleasantness about Peter
ruined this night with Joe.

Joe made a
grimace of distaste, “I want to—”

“Please, Joe.” She tightened her grip on his
arm. Was she facing the prospect of Joe and her ex-husband brawling
at the banker’s ball?

The glint of
battle was gleaming in Joe’s eyes but his fists unclenched. “Okay.
We’ll steer clear of him,” he said. “For your sake.”

“Our table is over there,” Allison said,
relieved. “Come on, let’s join them.”

She enjoyed
the look on Clive’s face as she introduced Joe around the table.
Her “bit of rough” was as well-dressed, as well-educated and as
well-spoken as any of the other men. And way, way better
looking.

Allison floated through the evening on a
cloud of happiness. She scarcely heard the stuffy speeches that
comprised the formal part of the evening. And dancing with Joe made
her forget everything but the pleasure of being in his arms.

When the music stopped for a break, she
watched Joe as he made polite, informed talk with the
vice-president of her bank. Joe was looking very serious and
nodding in all the right places.

She felt
inordinately proud of him. But, she realized, she might not have
found him so attractive if this unexpected corporate identity had
been all there was to his personality. There were plenty of
conforming corporate men around. The room was packed with
them.

But there
was only one Joe. And there was something about him that made him
special and impossible to categorize.

She thought
about him tenderly wiping cereal from Mitchell’s hair; cooking in
her kitchen with a dishtowel tied around his waist; up on stage
bringing delight to hundreds of children. Her heart swelled so much
with emotion it almost hurt.

Joe didn’t
care what people thought of him. But that wasn’t arrogant
rebelliousness, as she had thought at first. He was his own person,
secure in his own identity, not afraid to go out into the world and
get from it what he wanted.

That
self-confidence was his strength, not just physical but emotional.
Unlike Peter, Joe was a man strong enough not to need to put her
down to boost his own ego.

She wasn’t
very good at guessing other people’s feelings, but his actions
tonight gave her some hope that maybe he was growing to care for
her, too. It had been a big thing for him to conform to this
conservative image for her. She knew it, and her heart sang in
appreciation.

If only his attitude to Mitchell could be
different. That was the insurmountable stumbling block. But she’d
vowed to give him time to get used to the thought she and Mitchell
came as a package.

Time was something they hadn’t so far had
much of.

Joe shook the vice-president’s hand and the
older man turned away to another group of people.

Allison
found herself unable to stop looking at Joe: at the way his jaw was
starting to shadow; at the sensuous curve of his top lip; at the
breadth of his shoulders. Had a man ever looked better in a tuxedo?
A shudder of desire ran through her.

Joe turned
and intercepted her gaze. For a long second he looked back at her,
deep into her eyes, and Allison felt as though the air between was
charged.

“I’ve had enough. How about you?” he said,
his voice husky.

All she
wanted was to be alone with him. “I’ll get my purse,” she
said.

Before the
elevator doors slid closed behind them, Joe pulled her tightly to
him and kissed her with unleashed passion, caressing her breasts
until her nipples peaked and her body ached with longing. She
responded with equal fervor, sliding her hands inside his shirt,
reveling in the feel of his hard chest, twining her fingers in his
chest hair.

She was
gasping, lightheaded with desire, unsteady on her feet, when the
elevator opened in the hotel car park and Joe took her to where his
Harley was parked. “I brought it in earlier,” he explained at her
incredulous expression. “Hop on.”

Allison stared at the low-slung motorbike,
part fearful, part wanting to laugh out loud with excitement. “I’ve
never been on a bike before,” she said.

“
So you’re a
bike virgin,” Joe said. “Relax and enjoy your first
time.”

He reached
into a saddlebag, pulled out his black leather jacket, and tossed
it to her. “Put this on.” He unclipped the two helmets fastened to
the bike and put one on.

Still dazed,
Allison shrugged herself into Joe’s jacket, enveloping herself in
his scent. It was way too big and she had to fold back the sleeves.
She stood as he fastened the second helmet under her chin,
trembling where his fingers touched her.

Joe mounted
the Harley
. What about her evening dress
and high-heeled shoes? With reckless disregard for her finery, she
hitched up her long skirts and climbed on behind him. Joe sat low
on his seat, his legs ahead of him, leaning back against
her.

The pillion seat was a step up behind him
and she rested her hands on his shoulders, choosing to grip his
body rather than the sissy bar behind her. Then, with a few
powerful kicks, he started the machine and they took off, the
forward thrust pushing Joe back against her. The throaty roar of
the engine seemed to hang in the air behind them.

They left
the city behind and crossed the Harbour Bridge but zoomed past the
exit for her house. “Where are we going?” Allison shouted. But the
wind snatched the voice from her mouth and the helmet muffled any
reply.

Joe let out
the throttle as they hit the freeway. Allison laughed at the
exhilaration of the speed; the way the bike’s motor throbbed and
vibrated through her body. She, Joe and the machine were
one.

They left
the freeway and headed for the water. Finally, the bike glided to a
halt at the end of a narrow road, houses left far behind. One of
the smaller harbor beaches lay just a short walk away through a
patch of bushland. Allison wasn’t worried about staying out with
Joe; Mitchell was in good hands and Katie wasn’t expecting her home
until later.

There were
no streetlights but her eyes quickly adjusted to moonlight. She and
Joe took off their helmets and she slipped off her high-heels. Then
Joe took her hand and they found their way through a stand of
eucalypts and onto the sand.

She and Joe
were the only people on the sheltered beach. It was a warm spring
night, the sky dazzling with stars. The air was tangy with salt and
eucalypt; tiny waves swished and swirled onto the sand.

Allison knew
all the beauty was there but was oblivious to it. The world had
shrunk to just her and Joe.

“
I
dreamed
about you here with me,” Joe
murmured, so huskily Allison couldn’t be sure she’d heard him
properly. “Come here,” he said.

Allison knew
this was her moment of decision. S
he’d
had enough of saying no. She sighed and surrendered. Surrendered
her mouth. Surrendered her body. Surrendered her heart.

Joe tasted
her lips with small, teasing kisses that she returned with equal
fervor. It was she who darted her tongue into the warmth of his
mouth, teasing, exploring until he moaned with pleasure.

His arms
tightened around her and, without breaking their intimate contact,
he pulled her down with him onto the sand. She twined her arms
around his neck. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her
nipples tingled as they hardened. She felt tense with awareness and
anticipation.

They kissed,
hungrily, urgently for a long time before Joe broke away from her
mouth to plant a trail of hot kisses along her neck. The caress of
his mouth and the rasp of his beard electrified her senses. She
found a smooth spot on the curve of his jaw to kiss and nuzzle. She
inhaled his special Joe smell, then nibbled on the lobe of his
ear.

W
hen his mouth again possessed
hers, she shuddered with pleasure. He pushed the leather jacket off
of her shoulders and swept over the silky fabric of her dress; her
nipples stood rigid to attention, aching for his touch. He broke
away from the kiss and this time the path of burning kisses went to
the edge of her plunging neckline. He nudged away the fabric of her
dress and then the lace of her half-cup bra.

Allison
could think of nothing but what Joe was doing to her. She was
beyond caring they were on a beach, their bodies silvered by
moonlight.

The pleasure
when he licked the areola around her nipple was so intense she
gasped. When he took the nipple in his mouth, caressing it with his
tongue, she thought she would faint with ecstasy. A warmth ignited
deep in the pit of her belly and flamed into desire that burned
through her body, concentrating between her legs and making her
forget everything but Joe and how much she wanted him.

He lifted
her head and she thrilled to the answering desire she saw in his
eyes. “Ally,” he murmured. He bent his head to attend to her other
breast.