Whirlwind (24 page)

“It's been so long,” he murmured, barely audible.

Liza worked his shirt off and unsnapped his jeans. Though his flesh felt hot, he shivered as she undressed him, kicking his wet shoes aside and running her hands down the powerful muscles of his legs before smoothing her caress upward once again. She found him hard and pulsing.

Stretching on tiptoe, Liza aligned herself with him, and felt Cliff shudder as their rain-slick bodies connected. For a moment Liza feared he couldn't control himself, that he was overcome by desires too long suppressed. He ran his hands down her hips and kissed her hard and hungrily. Growling words she couldn't understand, he pressed against her soft body, holding her inescapably against the proof of his own excitement. Wet skin against wet skin, he hugged her hard and poured a liquid kiss into Liza's mouth.

Too fast, too fast,
Liza wanted to cry.
Make it last all night.

Perhaps he heard her plea or his own instincts took over at that moment, because Cliff suddenly slowed and a long, tormenting pleasure began. He stroked her, explored her secret places, admired her body with his hands, whispering words that soothed and aroused at the same time. Liza found herself shaking weakly as she responded in kind, caressing Cliff's lean frame and learning every detail of his still-moist skin. Her feathery touch led him to the brink of desire time and time again.

At last, Liza pulled away and reclined on the rug, inviting Cliff with outstretched arms. His gaze was dark with tumultuous desire as he knelt above and stared at her languorous, naked body.

“I want to make you mine,” he said on a rasp, parting her knees and caressing the inner flesh of her thighs.

“I'll always be myself,” she whispered.

“God, Liza, you must stop me if I—”

“You can't hurt me, Cliff.”

With a groan of surrender, he came down to her then, gripping Liza's shoulders with hands that bit hard. Liza reached for him, welcoming him with a soft murmur. He lost control and thrust inside her at once, driving deeply until he reached the place that made Liza cry out.

He tensed at once, frozen above her like a beautiful, erotic statue.

“No!” she choked, already floating on the brink of something wonderful. “Don't stop.”

“But I—”

“You're a man making me feel like a woman. Please don't stop.”

He buried his face against her breast. “I couldn't stop now. You feel too warm, too good.”

Liza held his tousled head and wondered if she'd ever felt so deeply moved. How profoundly this man needed her. And he needed her in every way.

There seemed no way to express how much she needed
him, too, except by physical communication. Liza held him and rocked her hips—slowly at first, then building to a delicious dance that dragged a groan of pleasure from Cliff's throat.

The sound of his voice gave her a thrill of feminine triumph. For him, she was the only woman in the world. When he raised himself and began to thrust powerfully into her, a delightful tremor grew inside Liza. Mindlessly, she arched to meet his next plunge, wrapping her slim legs around his hips to make each surging connection more perfect than the last. She wanted to give him everything, to ease his pain and make him whole again. His intense gaze burned with conflicting emotion, emotion she longed to assuage.

But silhouetted against the rain-streaked window, Cliff's face soon began to swim in a haze of sensual pleasure, and she could not find her voice to ease his troubled soul. Liza lifted her fingertips to his cheek, then had to close her eyes as waves of delight racked her body. Tears of joy and release burned behind her lids. Over and over, she felt Cliff find the sweetest spot inside her—sometimes tenderly, sometimes sharply—and her throat contracted with emotion. How could a man so full of pain give so much pleasure? How had he learned so quickly the things that she loved most? Yet she felt attuned to him, too, and knew exactly how to make him respond. They moved with eerie syncopation, rushing higher and higher, hotter and hotter, as they soared toward satisfaction.

At last, the world contracted and seemed to explode around them, shimmering in tiny fragments of light and darkness. Liza clutched Cliff tightly, and they plunged off the edge of the earth into darkest space. Perhaps she called his name, for Cliff answered with a deep, hoarse cry of his own.

A long time later, Liza became conscious of floating back to reality. Cliff remained deep inside her for a long
while, then reluctantly shifted, tucking her body against his own lean frame. Exhausted, yet revitalized, Liza lay snugly with him, listening to Cliff's breathing steady and wondering if he'd been as racked by emotion as she had been. Her whole body still throbbed with pleasure, and unshed tears filled her eyes. Puzzled, she tried to remember if she'd ever felt such deep emotion before.

She shivered, and Cliff mistook that reaction. He left her for a few minutes to light a fire, then returned with the worn afghan from the sofa. He wrapped her in the warm folds and held her as the flames sprang up. Liza hugged him fiercely. She didn't dare look at his face for fear he'd see how profoundly she'd been affected by their lovemaking, but she relaxed into his arms again and marveled at how natural it felt to be so intimate with Cliff. He toyed with the long strands of her hair, content to bathe in the glow of the fire.

What had happened? Liza wondered. How had something usually as uncomplicated as sex turned into something so amazing? Inside, she felt churned up. Her heart was still beating erratically.

Maybe it was foolish. Stupid, even. But Liza felt the urge to say the words.

“Listen, Forrester,” she whispered, fighting to keep her voice steady. “I—I think I must be falling for you.”

She felt his arm go tense beneath her head.

“Liza—” he began, voice rough.

She covered his mouth with her fingertips and avoided making eye contact. “Just listen a minute. I'm not asking for your eternal love or anything. I just...it's funny, that's all. Don't you think so?”

“Hilarious,” Cliff said, sounding anything but amused.

“Don't get bent out of shape.” She sat up quickly, wishing she hadn't tried to explain her feelings. She kept her face turned away.

Cliff pushed up on one elbow and touched her bare back hesitantly. “Liza...”

“I'm not trying to get you to say something you don't mean. I just wanted you to know, that's all. I really care about you.”

Cliff's touch was gentle but firm as he turned Liza around to face him. He brushed her hair from her temples, and his dark gaze was solemn on hers. “You know I'm not ready for any of this—not even for what's already happened.”

The truth hurt, even though she already knew Cliff wasn't capable of declaring any deep feelings. He had too many problems to overcome before he could recognize love when it stared him in the face.

“Sometimes,” he said, “I've hated you. You make demands and push your way into things that—”

“I'm a pushy broad.”

“Yes, but you're other things, too. Whether you admit it or not, you're sensitive and caring. I know that, Liza. I just...I can't give you the things you need. Not now, anyway. I'm not ready.”

The mood had changed too quickly for Liza to stand. She swallowed hard, attempted to grin saucily and slid her hand down his body. “Oh, yeah? A few years of celibacy seems to have made you ready for just about anything.”

“That's not what I mean,” he said, catching her hand before she could tease him erect again. “I can't make you any promises, Liza.”

“I'm not asking for anything. Relax,” she said, playfully extricating her hand from his grip and brushing her nose against his to coax a grin. Her own mouth trembled with the effort of keeping a smile pasted in place. “Let's just see what happens, okay?”

“But—”

“I just want to have a good time,” she lied. “Let's just
fool around a little and see what develops. When was the last time you enjoyed yourself? Or played a game?”

“A game?” he repeated blankly.

She laughed and caressed him boldly, anxious to restore the mood she'd broken by making premature declarations. Her fingers toyed with the hair on his chest. “Yeah, a game. A sexy game.”

Cliff was at a loss. “You mean like spin the bottle?”

“No, you dope! I'm talking about grown-up games. Like you pretend you're a gunslinger, and I'll be the saloon girl who ropes you—”

He began to laugh helplessly. “Liza, I don't even know who I am under normal circumstances!”

“I know who you are,” she said softly, nibbling his jaw and planting tiny kisses on the curve of his mouth. “You're a sexy, wonderful man, and you turn me on, Cliff Forrester.”

“You can't be as turned on as I am.”

“You make me ache inside and tingle when you touch me—”

“Like this?”

Liza shivered as he feathered a caress down her belly. “Yes, like that.”

“We don't need games,” Cliff murmured, his mouth centimeters from capturing hers.

“Maybe not,” Liza agreed, opening her mouth as he crushed her lips with his. She pulled Cliff over, and they tumbled onto the soft afghan once again.

* * *

I
N THE MORNING
, Cliff awoke to the sound of a car crunching on the gravel of the driveway. He sat up groggily, and found himself alone.

“Liza?”

She called from the kitchen. “I'm going outside! Carl's here with my car!”

She slammed out through the door, and he could hear her bare feet thudding quickly on the porch.

Knowing she was outside, Cliff leaned back on his elbow on the floor. After making love a second time, they'd spread their damp clothes in front of the fire and made a kind of nest on the floor, complete with pillows and cushions from the sofa and extra blankets to snuggle under. In fact, the blanket was still warm where Liza had slept. Cliff ran his hand over the place where her body heat remained and closed his eyes, remembering how good it had felt when she stirred against him in the night.

God, she'd been sweet. And spicy, too. The many flavors of Liza—delicious as honey one minute and piquant with sensual curiosity the next.

Her sexuality burned like a flame inside her. Shedding her clothing had been natural for her. Cliff remembered the openly lusty look in her eyes when she lay back on the rug and beckoned him down. Just thinking about the expression on her face made him hard again. She was beautiful and she enjoyed it. Some women liked sex, Cliff thought, the way they enjoyed chocolate. It was quick and refreshing.

But not terribly lasting.

That was probably the way Liza looked at it. Good, quick, fun sex and no regrets.

That business about falling for him—that had been an afterthought. Maybe she'd figured he needed to hear that after their first wild coupling.

“She can't mean it,” Cliff murmured. “Love doesn't happen that fast. Besides, she seemed very willing to change the subject when I called her bluff.”

That was what it had been, no doubt. A bluff. Liza's sexual appetite was probably like her appetite for everything else she enjoyed in life. Large and insatiable. And saying she cared for him afterward—that was probably part of modern bedroom etiquette. Saying the right words at the
end was surely as obligatory as a postcoital cigarette, and Liza had obliged. But it didn't mean anything to her.

Cliff felt changed, however.

Liza romped into the room, her hair full of sunshine and her blue eyes throwing sparks. She had pulled on her T-shirt and jeans again, and looked unbearably sexy.

“Hi,” she said, falling to her knees and giving Cliff a sizzling good-morning kiss. Her voice was husky, and she looked deeply into his eyes. “Sleep well?”

“Yes,” Cliff answered, surprising himself with the truth. “I haven't slept like that in years.”

Her brows waggled suggestively. “A little exercise is good for you, I guess. Carl brought my car. He's gone back to town with his assistant. It's all fixed. Want to go for a spin?”

“I'd rather stay here with you.” He filled his hands with her hair and tugged her close, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of his life making love to this wonderfully uninhibited young woman.

She laughed, looking beautiful as she curled into his arms. “That's a switch! You don't want to get rid of me anymore?”

“Don't tease a naked man, my girl.”

“Why not?”

“Because you'll find yourself in a compromising position.”

He pinned her unresisting body to the cushions and rode into the valley of her thighs. Liza sighed and settled provocatively beneath him, slipping her arms around his neck.

“Listen,” she said, fondling his hair and smiling. “Before we start making a regular thing of this—”

“Yes?” he asked, already easing her shirt off to explore her body again.

“I think we ought to talk about a few issues.”

Cliff stopped trying to strip her naked and eyed Liza warily. “What issues?”

“Birth control, for one thing. It slipped my mind last night, what with all the excitement, you understand. And believe me, I've done a lot of calculating this morning before coming to the conclusion that this is probably a safe time for me, but...”

Cliff stopped listening for a second, his own thoughts superseding Liza's chatter. Birth control! He hadn't even thought about it last night. And the idea of fathering a child at this stage in his life was more frightening than facing a platoon of soldiers with automatic weapons.

What kind of father would he make? He could hardly look after himself, let alone a child!

Liza prattled on obliviously, saying, “I think condoms would be best for the moment, since it'll take a few days to get a doctor to prescribe the pill for me again—”

“You were taking birth control pills?”