The Night Remembers (19 page)

Daphne shivered at the feather-light touch, little ripples of desire dancing madly over her flesh. She reached for the hem of his sweater.

"Not yet," Adam whispered hoarsely.

Daphne's hands fell back to her sides, waiting.

He placed his palms on her shoulders, rubbing lightly as if reacquainting himself with the satiny texture of her skin. Then he hooked a finger under the narrow straps of the camisole and eased them down, one at a time. He kissed one bare shoulder, then the other, and pulled the straps a little further down her arms. The silky fabric slid a bit lower and then clung, revealing all but the hardened tips of her breasts. Adam paused again and bent his head, brushing lips softly over the upper curves of her breasts, planting moist baby kisses on the random freckles.

Daphne moaned, head back, hands clenched at her sides as her body lifted to him with a will of its own.

Adam stilled, his fingers tightening on the straps, his lips pressed against the warm slope of her breast, as if he were taking a moment to catch his breath. Then he lifted his head and pulled the straps the rest of the way down so that they dangled past her clenched hands, baring her to the waist.

His eyes widened, the tightly leashed control slipping a notch as he took in the sheer perfection of her high perky breasts with their puckered cocoa-brown nipples, the narrow, fragile-looking rib cage, the narrower waist.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed after a minute. His fingers feathered over her torso, skimming lightly past the thrusting breasts to clasp her slim waist, measuring it in his trembling hands. "You're smaller than I remember. More fragile." His hands smoothed back up her rib cage. "Except here." He cupped her breasts from the underside, plumping them up as he weighed their fullness in his palms. Then he bent his head swiftly, as if he could wait no longer, and took one pebbled nipple between his lips. Holding it gently, he rolled it between his teeth as his tongue flicked across the tip.

Daphne whimpered and swayed toward him, her body gone liquid with desire. Her arms came up, circling his neck, and her hands curled into his golden hair to hold him even closer to her hungering breasts.

Adam's arms went around her waist, sustaining her. A moment later, one hand cupped the back of her head, and she felt herself begin to fall backward, supported in Adam's arms as he lowered her to the bed.

He came down beside her, balanced on one elbow as he buried his face in the lavishness of her breasts. He nibbled on the creamy ivory flesh, tasting, licking, savoring them as he had her lips. He ran his tongue from the freckled upper slopes to the soft plumpness at the sides, along the sweet vulnerable curve underneath and back up again, teasing them to aching hardness.

One big hand still tenderly cupped the back of her head, making Daphne feel fragile and precious and adored. His other hand lay on her stomach, the tips of his fingers rubbing lightly, hypnotically, over the slippery fabric of her peach silk panties just above her mound.
That
hand made her feel wild and wanton and hungry for more—much more.

She moved restlessly on the bed, one knee lifting as she turned toward him. Her hands loosened their death grip on his hair, shifting, urging his mouth to her turgid, aching nipple. He resisted her efforts at direction, turning his head instead to kiss the soft pale flesh of her inner arm.

"Not yet," he murmured again, maddeningly. "I want to savor you this time. Taste you." He nipped her arm lightly and then laved it with his tongue. "I want to touch you all over." The hand on her stomach moved, circling, so that his fingertips just brushed over the silk covered triangle at the apex of her thighs. "I want you wild with need," he whispered huskily. "Wild with want."

Daphne arched reflexively, her body seeking a firmer touch, a more intimate caress. "I
am
wild."

"Not as wild as you're going to be," he promised solemnly and lowered his head to her breasts again.

He circled her right nipple slowly, with just the tip of his tongue, wetting her skin with his moist hot breath, making her ache for him to take it into his mouth. When he did, she arched high, stiffening for a moment at the sharp searing pleasure that ripped through her.

His free hand feathered up her stomach at the same time, doubling the pleasure as he captured the other nipple and gently, skillfully, rolled it between thumb and forefinger.

Daphne sighed, warmth spreading through her like hot honey, and her spine floated back down to settle against the bed. Her hands dropped to his shoulders and rested there, softly, like fallen flower petals against the grass, quiescent under the drugging ministrations of his mouth and hand. She felt liquid and weightless, as if she could lie there forever, content merely to have him touching and suckling at her breasts while she floated on the warm waves of sensation that rolled over her body like swells on the surface of the sea.

But then his hand slid back down her stomach and slipped under the edge of the silky peach material of her bikini panties. He cupped her warmth and moistness in his palm, the heel of his hand pressing down, rotating, two fingers pressing inward, unerringly finding her most sensitive secret places.

Daphne's body surged upward, her fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater, and she uttered a strangled little sound that was half a cry of ecstasy, half his name. Adam shifted, moving upward to capture her cries with his lips. He thrust his tongue into her mouth: swirling, probing, tasting, giving, taking, mimicking the movements of his fingers in her body.

The swells of pleasure became waves, huge waves, building strength and speed and power as they raced toward the shore, tumbling Daphne over and over in their wake. She couldn't stop them, didn't want to stop them, would drown if they didn't stop soon...

Her body tightened spasmodically, her back arching as she crested a climax of feeling that hit her like a tidal wave. Her legs crossed, trapping his hand between her thighs. Her hands clenched in his sweater, holding and pushing at the same time. She tore her mouth away from his. "Take it off," she demanded hoarsely, drinking in great gulps of air. "I'm wild now, Adam," she panted. "Wild with wanting you."

"Not yet." He repeated that same maddening phrase like a litany. His voice was thick with passion, wild with a wanting of his own as he evaded her clutching hands and slid down her body. "Not yet," he breathed against the quivering skin of her body. "I haven't tasted all of you yet." He curled his fingers in the edges of her panties and pulled them down her legs. Then he pushed her thighs apart and lowered his head, opening his mouth over the exquisitely sensitive flesh between her legs.

His tongue stroked her for one minute…two… three… and then Daphne moaned as if mortally wounded, her body arching like a bow as her second orgasm hit her. Her fingers spasmed, clutching the fabric of his sweater. He lifted his head from between her legs, allowing her to drag the sweater over his head as he crawled back up her body. She tossed the sweater aside and reached for the button on his jeans, only to find that his hands were already there. They fumbled together, working to lower the zipper and then she slid her hands around to cup his firm buttocks, inside his jeans and briefs, pushing them down enough so that she could feel his erection spring free against her thigh.

She wrapped her hand around his penis. "I need you inside me," she breathed. "Now. Please, Adam,
now
."

He didn't make her wait any longer. Positioning himself, he thrust forward, burying his length and hardness to the hilt.

Daphne gasped and wrapped her arms and legs around him, clutching him more tightly to her. "Yes," she moaned raggedly, as he began to move against her, inside her. "Yes," she said when he reared back and hooked his arms behind her knees, opening her more fully to his powerful thrusts. "Oh, God,
yes,
" she shrieked as she shattered beneath him in her third explosive orgasm of the night.

Without giving her time to catch her breath, he rolled onto his back, pulling her over on top of him. She rose to a sitting position, reaching out to steady herself with her hands on his chest. It was heaving like a bellows, gleaming with sweat in the flickering candlelight. She leaned down and slowly licked his neck, from the hollow at the base of his throat to just under his chin. His hands clamped on her hips, pulling her down, hard, against him as he thrust his hips upward and let his orgasm take him.

Daphne shattered for a fourth time, every muscle and sinew in her body pulled excruciatingly tight and hard before exploding outward in a shimmering cascade of nearly unbearable pleasure. "Adam," she moaned and collapsed, sobbing, onto his chest.

His arms came around her, gently enfolding. He stroked her back tenderly, kissing her cheeks and her shoulders and the soft, vulnerable curve of her neck, murmuring soft nonsense words until she quieted against him. And then he turned her on her side, her back to his front.

"Sleep," he said, and curled himself around her the way he'd done every night all those years ago when they'd still been husband and wife.

And Daphne slept, secure in the familiar memories of all those nights.

Chapter 10

"Uh-huh. Yes, got it
." Daphne sat in one of Adam's padded leather dining room chairs, her bare feet propped up on another one, rapidly making notes on a lined yellow pad as she listened to the voice on the other end of the phone.

Adam's invitation to stay with him during her next trip to San Francisco had turned into almost six weeks of conducting her business on a transcontinental basis. She was getting very good at it.

"Yes, the sketches arrived in perfect condition. No problems. Umm-hmm. Well, I don't think so but maybe you'd better double-check that."

She pushed a huge, short-haired marmalade cat off her notepad and then relented and idly scratched him behind the ears as she continued her part of the conversation.

"And the shelter people were pleased with the fund raiser?" she said after a minute. "That's great, Elaine. You did a fine job," she congratulated her assistant warmly. "I'm so pleased with the way you're taking charge of things."

She paused for a moment, listening. "This coming Monday," she answered, glancing at the open appointment book spread out on the table. "Flight
487...no,
I'll take a
taxi...
plenty of time," she said airily. "Mr. Chan isn't due until Wednesday. Surely you can hold the fort alone for
three more days, can't you?" She smiled to herself, amused. "Yes, I thought so."

The cat jumped off the table, bored with his mistress's halfhearted attention, and stalked away.

"Oh, and one more thing, Elaine. Tell Hiram—" Hiram was her lawyer "—that I'm sending him a copy of a partnership agreement I'd like him to look over for me."

"A partnership agreement?" Elaine said carefully.

"Uh-huh." Daphne smiled at the gray Persian who sat on the opposite end of the table cleaning herself, and then dropped her bomb into the conversation. It was something she had been intending to do for months; Elaine was more ready for the responsibility—and the reward. "It's about time I gave you a piece of the action, don't you think?"

"A piece of the..." Elaine's voice rose to a squeak. "You mean you're making me a partner?"

"Not a
full
partner," Daphne warned, pleased that her little surprise had come off so well. "Just twenty percent to start and—"

"Twenty percent! Of Night Lights?"

Daphne chuckled. "What else have I got twenty percent of to give away? Not that I'm
giving
it away, anyway. You've earned it."

"Oh, Daphne, I don't know what to say. I—"

"Well, don't say anything," Daphne advised. "I haven't got time to listen to you. Sunny'll be here any minute and I've got to get some of this mess straightened up before I leave or Mrs. Drecker will have a fit."

"Who?"

"Adam's housekeeper." Daphne shuddered. "A real neatness freak. She actually moves the furniture when she vacuums."

Elaine laughed. "Lucky for you."

"Don't I know it." Daphne grinned into the receiver. "Be sure to tell Hiram to explain the agreement to you, okay? Gotta go." She hung up before Elaine could say another word.

"Go on, Queenie," she said to the gray cat, shooing it off the table. "Go find someplace else to take your bath. You're in my way."