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Authors: Carol Rose

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Double-Cross My Heart (18 page)

BOOK: Double-Cross My Heart
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Eden murmured, “Take them off.”

Removing his underwear at her behest, Alex stretched out next to her, his body lean and muscled with the light hair on his chest arrowing down to his now-visible erection. He was so damned gorgeous.

Reaching over, Eden pulled his mouth to hers, their lips meeting in a deep kiss. He felt incredibly good, his skin smooth and heated, his arms powerful and sheltering.

Trailing her hand over his bicep, then his chest, she skimmed down to his abdomen, taut with excitement.

“Damn,” he breathed. His breath sounded harsh in the room as she circled him, enjoying the heaviness and length of his erection. Alex groaned, falling back on the bed as he lifted his hips to her touch.

Eden was pierced, at that moment, with a determination, gripped in her desire to love him as thoroughly as he was loving her. No matter the craziness awaiting them with the dawn, she could only be with him now, as completely as she could.

Sitting up, she measured the width of his chest, her hands cherishing as they splayed over his flesh. Firm and pliable, his skin rippled beneath the pads of her fingers, her palms curving over each contour, enchanted with the sensation of touching him.

Where the room had seemed cool when she was first naked, she felt nothing but heat now, her body sizzling at his nearness and the promise of their joining.

Emotion rose up in her, tangled and unclear as if she saw only jagged corners and angles. Love and longing, regret and tenderness. A fierce sense of possessiveness. He was hers, dammit. No one else’s.

Eden rose up on her knees, bending forward to lay her mouth on him, tasting the clean, saltiness of his skin.

Moaning again, he stroked her, his hand sliding over her breast and her waist to clench, involuntarily it seemed, on her hip.

He was truly amazing, gorgeous in the slope of his powerful thighs, the breadth of his chest, the fine musculature that proclaimed his fitness.

Not a muscle man gleaming with oil and improbable bulges, but a man who looked as if he worked and played hard.

Ringing him with one hand, she cupped the contrasting softness below his erection, gently squeezing.

Sitting up, he rummaged in a drawer next to the bed. “Here, sweetheart. I can’t wait any longer.”

She rolled the latex over his hardness, her body humming with his touch and a mindless, breathless anticipation.

Again, Alex groaned. He lie on the bed next to her, his fingers stroking and delving into her folds, drawing her closer to the edge. On fire and mindless with love, she climbed astride his prone body, the damp cleft of her pelvis soft against his hardness.

His breath caught and he said, his voice rough, “Let me feel you.”

Lifting up, she positioned him at her entrance and shifted back to take him at last into her body. The thought left her incoherent with anticipation. She’d wanted him, ached for him, so long.

“Ahhh,” Alex hissed as they melded.

Her body adjusting to his intrusion, she moved over him, taking him in further with each stroke.

Long and slow with each movement, she set the pace. Beneath her, he crooned her name, his hands cupping her breasts, plucking softly at her nipples as he rose to meet her.

“So beautiful,” he muttered, his hands avid on her.

Over and over, they moved together, the only sound the squeaking of the bed and their own sighs of pleasure. Time spun away and she fell into the welcoming embrace of pure sensation. Him in her, melded together by the bond of their hunger.

Her breath coming faster, she felt him swell even more inside her, his hands hard on her hips now to encourage each thrust. The bed bucking under them, Eden heard his low cry of release just as she spun over the cliff again, her body tight with the effort to hold—cling to—the brilliant, clenching moment.

Spent, she collapsed on his chest, the warmth and scent of him surrounding her, his voice warm and loving in her ears.

“My Eden, my Eden,” he said.

***

Hours later Alex woke slowly, aware of a gray-blue light from the window signaling morning. His next awareness was of the woman in his arms. Naked and warm, her body fit against his, nestled and relaxed.

Lying slack, as tranquil as Eden asleep beside him, he enjoyed the slow stirring to alertness of his senses.

Outside the window snow was piled on the flat roof of the neighboring building. Soft and white, it pillowed up, rounding the straight lines and drifting into the carved brick border that sat like a cap on the edifice.

The muffling snow softened the Sunday traffic noises, even more muted than usual on the streets far below.

Beside him, Eden sighed in her sleep, her faced turned up to his with the innocence of a child.

Letting his gaze wander over her, the line of her jaw, the curl of an ear, half-hidden by her dark hair, Alex smiled. His high-powered executive didn’t look so tough now. She looked as replete and content as he felt.

God, he’d slept well. Actually
slept
straight through the morning hours and woke now in daylight! When in the last fifteen years had he done that—slept till dawn?

As a kid, he’d gotten up and done his homework or watched endless, boring early morning television. In his adult life, he’d learned to spend the early morning hours working out or getting a jump on the tasks of the day.

He’d still quietly envied people who woke after the dawn.

Sex had always been a good avenue to relaxation, but when had he ever spent an entire night in bed with a woman after the fireworks were spent?

It was her, he thought. Eden. Loving him as thoroughly as he’d ever known a woman could. He’d about dropped his glass when she’d looked up at him at dinner last night and said, “Let’s go to your place and make love.”

And then he couldn’t get her here quick enough, practically hustling them out the door.

Maybe he should have talked to her about the mugger before making love. He’d hesitated and finally left the words unspoken. He supposed there was a certain strategic intelligence in confessing all your sins. Definitely confession was better than discovery, but then the issue might never arise. If he confessed, he might feel better, but she’d be hurt and he couldn’t stand that thought.

For an instance, he envisioned the possibility of her discovering that he’d known who she was that night, finding out that he’d arranged to meet her. No one liked to be manipulated, at least, Eden wouldn’t like it. With her innate honesty, she’d scorn such a move herself.

All he wanted was the best for her….

He moved uneasily beneath the covers, conscious of her delicious nakedness and his own culpability.

Cutting corners, fudging the truth, playing a hidden hand—it was all part of getting where you wanted to go in the business world. Hell, maybe in the world in general. How many times had he optimized certain realities while downplaying others?

He knew himself to be honest at the core—honest in his heart—but he was under no delusions about how she’d view his sincerity in this case. Should he have told her the truth? Should he tell her now?

Eden would turn on him with scorn and hatred, anger covering over a profound hurt. It was the pain the truth would cause her that he flinched from. No matter how pure his concern for her, how genuine his every step since the beginning. It was the lie in the beginning that she’d remember…and she’d be wrong. That first lie, the set-up, didn’t in any way tell the whole truth about his feelings for her. Not the real truth.

It wasn’t necessary for her to find out the truth, he told himself. The business situation would be sorted through and resolved. Eden would move on to another position where she’d receive greater rewards and more recognition. And the two of them could move forward without any horribly ugly breach in their relationship. He couldn’t be sure of a solid future with Eden, but laying all the relevant facts out wasn’t necessary one way or the other.

Confession was sometimes self-indulgent and “honesty” a negotiable aspect of a situation.

He’d have no problem consoling his twinging conscience when the game played out in her favor.

Sighing, Eden moved against him now, turning her face into the cradle of his shoulder, her hand, moving palm down on his belly.

He was immediately hard, the blood pooling thickly in him with every thump of his heart.

Next to him her eyelids fluttered and sank, then fluttered again, opening slowly, her gaze focusing sleepily on him. She smiled and Alex felt a squeezing in the region of his heart. He could love her, this driven, focused woman. He really could.

“Good morning,” she murmured in a sleepy, bed-warmed voice that tightened his groin further. “You’re awake?”

“Yes,” he said, gathering her closer. The softness of her breasts crushed against his chest and Alex acknowledged the sensation as incredible.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked turning to face her as he scooped her closer, their naked bodies entwined. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well.”

Eden’s smile was smug as he lowered his mouth to trail kisses over her bare shoulder, the delicate structure of her bones fine through her beautiful skin.

“Yes, I slept well, thank you,” she said, her sleepy tone managing to be saucy, at the same time.

Knowing his intent was obvious by the brush of his heavy erection against her hip, Alex cupped her breasts in his hands and covered her mouth with his own. She stirred against him, opening her mouth and spreading her legs as he settled on top of her.

He needed her again, really badly.

Small and delicate beneath him, powerful and engulfing, she opened herself, taking him in. The silken tautness of her body drove him insane with wanting. If he could just stay like this, caught in her, ensnared, engulfed, held…the world could just go to hell.

An hour later, Alex took a carton of milk out of the refrigerator and reached over with his foot to shut the door.

“Are you sure you’re not into Corn Pops?” he called out to her.

“Yes.” Her response floated back to him from where she promised she’d stay. He just like the sight of her tucked up in his big bed.

“How about Fruit Loops?” he asked, grinning as he snagged the brightly-colored box from the cupboard.

“They’ll do,” she called, “if you don’t have Coco Puffs.”

Making his way down the hall, balancing bowls, spoons, cereal and milk, Alex brought the breakfast supplies into the bedroom.

As promised, she hadn’t moved out of the bed. Sitting in the tumble of covers, her shoulders bare in the morning light, Eden looked surprisingly waifish. It might have been a trick of the gray light spilling in from the windows, but he thought he now detected in her face a hint of self-conscious shyness.

Even as the thought made him grin—the woman had brought him to his knees repeatedly in the past twelve hours—Alex felt his insides go softer. She was turning him to mush, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Tugging the sheets and brocade comforter up in a straighter fashion, Eden sat up in the bed making a place for their breakfast picnic.

Outside the snow still fell, but despite the huge windows, Alex was satisfied his bedroom kept the same toasty temperature. If the chill from the gray day had snuck through leaks around the windows, his lovely bedmate would surely have had to get dressed.

As it was, she eagerly pounced on the cereal he’d brought, pouring herself a bowlful and splashing in the milk.

“Mmmm,” she crunched appreciatively, her momentary bashfulness apparently forgotten amid greater concerns.

Pausing before he joined her on the bed, he couldn’t help laughing. “If only the Michele board members could see you now. Not only would they kick Wendi out summarily, they’d vote to adopt you as the company spokesmodel. A picture of you, just like this, would sell any cosmetic product.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, her words muffled by the sugary cereal.

“I know so,” he said, sliding under the covers next to her.

After they’d eaten, Eden putting away enough processed cereal to make him wonder how she stayed so slender, he said, “Now aren’t you glad you’re not home, despite the plentiful Coco Puffs there? If you were home, you’d have gotten up and grabbed breakfast while you worked on the Passions marketing campaign, wouldn’t you?”

“Probably,” she acknowledged, snuggling down next to him.

He patted her nose with his index finger. “I’m prescribing more days like this—entire weeks—when we’re done with Michele Cosmetics. You’ll be able to take your time getting your next position lined up so you’ll have lots of mornings to huddle naked in my bed.”

Her unreadable gaze swung up to meet his. “Won’t you have to get up and get to work?”

“Being the boss has its perks,” he told her, nestling her back against his chest, her short hair tickling his chin.

“I’m sure it does,” she said. “But you can’t be too negligent or your employees will run amok and steal you blind.”

“I don’t call this being ‘negligent’,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to hold her closer. “I’m fully capable of running a business stark naked while dallying with a beautiful woman…with one hand tied behind my back.”

BOOK: Double-Cross My Heart
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