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Authors: Again the Magic

Damon, Lee (37 page)

BOOK: Damon, Lee
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In fact she was not aware that she was no longer alone until her mind foggily registered that the large, warm hand sliding gently up and down the length of her back was
not
part of a pleasant dream. Even then, the languorous stroking felt so good that she kept her eyes closed for another few moments. Finally, she couldn't hold still any longer and, like a contented cat, flexed and stretched her back muscles with a sinuous arching movement and groaned, "Mmmmmm. O'Mara."

His deep chuckle sounded from behind her, and there was a very satisfied note in his voice as he teased, "That's encouraging, love. Now, tell me how you knew my touch even in your sleep."

She looked over her shoulder at him and wrinkled her nose, laughter in her eyes. "Probably the same way you would know my touch. At least, you'd better." She dropped her head back down on her folded arms, but kept it turned so she could watch him out of the corner of her eye as he continued slowly stroking her back. "You're looking rather good for someone who's been jetting all over the place for two weeks. No bloodshot eyes, not a trace of a beard, no dark circles. When did you get home?"

"Now. I've just driven up from Boston. You're getting a bit pink around the edges, love." He reached for the suntan cream lying beside the mat and started rubbing it into her back. "I slept for most of the flight from London and changed clothes and shaved before we landed. Idiot, I told you this was a working trip. Have you been picturing me living it up all over Europe? I'm saving that until I can take you with me."

Kitt was only half-hearing him. A large part of her mind was busy coping with the sensations ebbing and flowing through her body from the sensuous movements of his hand over her back. She was vaguely aware that he shifted slightly, and glanced up to see him pulling his knit shirt off over his head and tossing it onto a chair.

"O'Mara, what are you doing?"

There was a thread of laughter in his voice as he answered, "Getting a tan. What do you think I'm doing? Are you blushing, or is that sunburn?"

"Of course I'm not blushing. Why should I? I've seen you lots of times without a shirt." Despite her best efforts to keep her tone matter-of-fact, her voice faded at the end.
I've got to tell him about the prowler. He should call Eddie right away.
She forgot her train of thought, and also forgot to breathe, as she was caught up in the crashing impact of his total maleness. Unthinkingly, automatically, she half turned to lean on one elbow, and her other hand reached out to brush, flat-palmed, over the thick, soft mat of curls on his chest.

With darkening eyes, he watched her gaze move over his shoulders and chest, follow the narrowing mat of hair down to the waistband of his jeans, and then flash back up to his face. She stared with unconscious longing at the wide, sensuous mouth; she didn't realize that her hps had parted to let the tip of her tongue run slowly across her bottom lip and that her fingers were playing in the thick curls on his chest.

For a few moments, they both seemed almost drugged with sun, the scent of lilacs and salt tang, and rising passion. Then, slowly, O'Mara reached down to take hold of Kitt's upper arms, pulling her up to sit facing him.

He brushed his lips across her cheek, and his voice was husky, almost whispering in her ear, "Put your arms around my neck, love, and kiss me hello. I'd like to see what two weeks of thinking about us has accomplished."

"It's kept me awake nights, for one thing," she whispered as she obediently wound her arms loosely around his neck. She tilted her head back to look at him, her smoky eyes wide with desire, and he caught his breath as he realized that for the first time there was no trace of fear in her expression. She managed a shaky smile as she saw how dark his eyes had become and read the barely controlled passion in them. "It's also interfered with just about everything else in my life. I've missed you so ma—"

The word and her breath were stifled, and rational thought disintegrated, under the hot pressure of his mouth on her half-parted lips. Her arms tightened and one hand buried itself in his thick hair. She felt his long fingers cradling her head, holding her still as her mouth opened further for his exploring tongue. Heat swirled and bubbled and then drained away from deep in her body, leaving her with a hollow, aching need. She vaguely felt a tug at her nape and then another between her shoulder blades. His hand slid between their lightly touching bodies and then away, and dazedly she realized that he'd taken off her bikini bra.

Suddenly, blazingly, the last tiny, cold knot within her flamed into white heat and disappeared, and there was no trace of fear or panic, no withdrawal, no control. Only a driving need to get closer to the warm, hard, male strength of him. Even before she felt the pressure of his hands spreading across her back, she was arching against him to press her naked breasts and stomach into his soft fur.

Loving the feel of the silky curls brushing her sensitive skin, she squirmed against him, rubbing her taut nipples and swelling breasts across his chest. He growled deep in his throat, and the gentle exploration of his tongue became an urgent thrusting as his arms closed around her with a force that would have cracked the ribs of a smaller woman. Utterly lost in a scorching red haze of long-denied sexual need, they wrapped themselves around each other, fingers digging into arms, shoulders and muscles with a fierceness that would leave bruises. They swayed back and forth, jolted off-balance by the power of the unleashed passion surging between them.

It went on for endless minutes until, finally, it was all too much for Kitt and, still clinging to him, still kissing him, she began to cry silent tears. Dimly, he became aware of tasting salt, and loosened his hold on her arm to brush his hand across her cheek. Lifting his mouth away from hers, he took a deep, ragged breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out slowly. He relaxed the tight grip of his other arm and eased her slightly back from him so he could look at her.

He savored the signs of passion in her face and eyes, knowing that she was seeing the same evidence on him. With a gentle hand, he smoothed back her hair, brushed the tears away and pressed her head down onto his shoulder. Eyes closed, he rested his cheek against her sun-warmed hair and reveled in the feel of her adventuring hands as they slowly moved over his bare shoulders, down across his chest and around to his back. He cradled a firm breast in his hand, pressing his palm against the tight nipple, and sucked in a quick breath as he felt her tongue trace a warm, wet path along his collarbone.

She shivered with reaction as his deep voice, hoarse with emotion, growled in her ear, "My beautiful Kitt. All of you. I've waited so long to be able to love all of you. And I'll make it beautiful for you, my Kitt. You can believe that now, can't you?"

She stretched up against him to reach his neck with her mouth, and her breasts pressed into his fur again as he slid his cradling hand away and down the length of her body, his fingers pushing under her bikini pants to slowly stroke the smooth, taut skin of her buttocks. "Oh, yes," she promised, her voice husky with love. "It's gone—the fear and the panic. All I can feel now is... I want you. I want to feel...
you...
inside me... part of me."

Her words and the plea in her voice jolted through him, and his exploring hand reflexively gripped her buttock. "Ooo'Maraa," she groaned. "Easy. I'm going to have some very strange bruises. How would you like me to grab you?"

He froze into immobility as he felt her hand move down his back, then around and down over his ribs to his stomach, where it hesitated.

I can't.
She felt the roughness of fabric under the heel of her hand, but her fingers were still resting on warm skin.
Yes, I can. I've dreamed about touching him. I've thought about it. Now. I need to know that I can be as loving and giving as he is. As he needs me to be. Move your hand, Kittredge. Prove to both of you that you really are all over the fear. Do it NOW.
She pressed her hot face into his neck and slowly, hesitantly, slid her wide-spread hand down over the tightly stretched denim, pausing as her fingers brushed against his hard, pulsing maleness.

The words were a warm, breathy moan in her ear. "Touch me, love. Please."

She moved her hand fractionally closer and hesitated again. "Help me," she whispered against the heated dampness of his neck.

She was suspended in a haze of erotic longing where seconds seemed to stretch on and on. She almost jumped when she felt his hand on hers, gently encouraging, until her fingers curved around him, tentatively examining the strangeness and then becoming bolder as she felt his heart hammering against her breasts, and his breath, uneven and hot, in her ear.

With their unique ability to link thoughts and feelings, she felt the powerful tide of joyful relief surging through him and mingling with his intense arousal as he experienced the full measure of her loss of fear and her determined overthrow of inhibition in her desire to please him. She knew he was clamping an iron restraint on his own inclinations, and giving her time to test her newly awakened seductive urges.

Almost with a will of its own, her hand moved more confidently over him in a tactile discovery of the dimensions and strength of him, and her mind blanked out in the force of molten desire that flamed through her, only infinitesimally weakened by the tiny tendrils of lingering apprehension. Although he was almost as mindless as she was, he sensed the hint of uncertainty and its cause. He also knew that it would only take another few moments of this powerful, growing sexual tension before they'd be naked and lost in each other on that mat, uncaring and unaware if Midge, Gus and half the town stood around and applauded. Which was entirely possible, and not at all what he wanted for her.

His hands closed around her arms, lifting and holding her away from him. "Kitt, we have to stop this now," he grated in a voice thick with need. "Look at me, love." He cradled her face with one hand, shaking her slightly until she blinked open dazed eyes and finally focused them on his face.

"O'Mara?" she whispered, her brightening gaze noting the sheen of moisture on his skin, the flush fading from his cheekbones, the warm glow of love subduing the hot blaze of passion in his eyes, and she knew that he was seeing the same things in her.

Suddenly, the last wisps of fog cleared from her mind, and realization crashed through her in an instantaneous replay of the preceding minutes. Her eyes and mouth snapped wide open as she stared at him in shocked, delighted incredulity.

"O'Mara! I did it!" she squealed, flinging her arms around his neck, her expression changing to triumphant joy as she scattered kisses over his laughing face, exultantly whooping, "I really did it! Oh, you are a beautiful man... and you're mine... all mine... I love you... and now we can... spend hours... weeks... months!... in that gorgeous huge bed... and you can teach me... all sorts of fantastic things... and between times... we can live in that...
Arabian Nights
fantasy of a bathroom... and... O'Mara?"

"What, love?" he gasped, still laughing.

"How do you make love in a hot tub?" she asked curiously.

"Very carefully," he answered with a grin. "Taking due care not to drown each other. Whatever made you think of that?"

"Er... something I heard."

She gazed at him with a happy smile, feeling lightheaded with the exhilarating sense of release from a long nightmare coupled with the powerful, sweeping tide of love flowing between her and this strong, passionate, yet gentle man. Gradually, they quieted, and she discovered she was angled half across his lap, held securely in the curve of one arm and resting against his upraised knees. His free hand was trailing lightly over the smooth, warm skin of her thigh, while his interested eyes traced their own tingling path down her nearly naked body. She watched his possessive examination of her firm breasts and slim, supple form. The gleaming blue eyes flicked back to meet her look of fond indulgence.

First startled and then amused, he said with mock-menace, "If you're smart, you shameless wench, you'll stop looking at me like a doting mother offering treats to her good boy." His caressing hand wandered over her bare hip and across her stomach, strong fingers gently massaging her tautening muscles, as he leaned forward to nip at her earlobe and growl, "Keep tempting me, and I may give
you
a few treats you aren't expecting."

She laughed up at him. "Tease!" she dared. "You wouldn't. Not when Midge might come up here at any minute. Or Gus or somebody else."

"Midge," he said smugly, "knows better than to let anyone up here." And his hand closed caressingly over her breast while he trailed nibbling kisses down her neck.

"Oooooh... no... wait," she panted. She grabbed his wrist, but then loosened her hold to run her fingers over the soft mat of fur on his arm. "You beast!... You made
me
stop... and now you're...." Her voice died away in a low moan as his hand moved to cup her breast and his warm mouth closed over the peak, his tongue flicking teasing circles around the hard nipple.

Her back arched and she was raising her hands to his head when he stopped, lifted and turned her, and she suddenly found herself kneeling beside him, hands clutching his shoulders for balance, while he laughed up at her with wickedly gleaming eyes. He bent forward to press a quick kiss on her belly, and then rose to his feet in one lithe move, picking up his shirt and tossing it to her.

"Here, temptress," he chided, laughing, "put this on before you stand up in front of the world and all the boaters. Unless, of course," he added teasingly, "you have more treats for me."

Her eyes flashed silvery fire as she lifted her upper lip and growled at him.

He grinned appreciatively. "You must have learned that from Hero, and you do it very well, love. What are you doing? You've got it on backward. Here, let me help you. Hold still, wiggle-worm. God, you've got at least four arms. There, you're decent." He pulled her to her feet. "Come on. I've brought you a present."

BOOK: Damon, Lee
11.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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