Heartthrob (25 page)

Kate forced a smile. “Take your time.”

“Actually, David,” Jed started, “now’s not the—”

“It’s all right,” Kate interrupted. She pulled him forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Thanks for ordering me a ginger ale.” She smiled. “Go get your ass grabbed by some rich old lady.”

Jed laughed as David pulled him away. But then he broke free. “Wait a sec,” he told his friend as he went back to Kate.

He kissed her again, a slow, lingering kiss that made the room seem to spin. And it affected her as much as it did him. He could see it in her eyes. “I’m starting to think it’s not casual,” he said softly. “Maybe you should give that some thought, huh?”

She didn’t answer. She just stared at him.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he told her, then went to join David.

When he glanced back, she was still watching him.

Kate came out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

There’d been no more time to talk to Jericho during the party, and after returning to the Stern’s house, she’d excused herself as quickly as possible. She’d escaped to the guest room to take a long, hot shower, and had stood in the little attached bathroom for close to fifteen minutes, just letting the water drum down on the back of her neck.

She had absolutely no clue what she was going to do about Jericho.
I’m starting to think it’s not casual.
What was
that
supposed to mean? That their relationship could
be serious? That she was supposed to think she had a future with this man? Having a long-term, serious relationship with Jericho Beaumont was just as foolish an idea as having a casual one-night stand.

She’d left her pajamas in her bag, and as she reached for them, she let the towel drop.

“Um, you don’t know I’m in here, do you?”

Kate looked up and directly into Jericho’s eyes then dropped behind the edge of the bed, hiding herself from his gaze.

“God!” she said. “What are you doing in my room?” She wrapped her towel back around her, but still didn’t stand up. Even the towel didn’t offer enough cover from his eyes.

“It’s my room, too,” he told her.

“What?
” She peeked over the mattress to look at him. He was sitting on the sofa on the other side of the spacious guest room.

“David and Allie assumed we were … together,” he said with a shrug. “It was either this or have me bunk in with Kenny. I think they probably thought as far as roommates go, I’d prefer you to a six-year-old.”

“Yeah, well, I’d prefer you to have Kenny.”

Kate reached up and pulled her bag down next to her and found her pj’s. She slipped the cotton shorts and sleeveless shift on, and then found her robe. Fastening her belt, she finally stood up.

“So,” she said, coolly trying to ignore the fact that she was still blushing. “Lucky you. You got to see me naked.”

“I’ve seen you naked before.” Jericho had unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and released his hair from his ponytail. He’d taken off his tuxedo jacket as well, and the picture he made sitting there, with his sleeves rolled up and his bow tie undone, was one of relaxed elegance. “But only in the movies,” he added.

He was drinking soda directly from a bottle, and he held it out, silently offering it to her.

There was no way in hell she was going to get close enough to him to take that bottle from his hand. She shook her head, folding her arms across her chest.

“Real life was much more fun.” He took another sip of soda, his gaze warm. “You look good naked.” He smiled. “I suppose I have to apologize for looking, although you better believe that intimidation was the last thing on my mind.”

She wasn’t going to move toward him, but she sure wouldn’t be able to stop him from coming toward her. And if he were to come toward her and put his arms around her, she’d have to tell him that was probably a bad idea. And if he kissed her…

If he kissed her, she wouldn’t be able to say much of anything, because she’d be kissing him.

Oh, God, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to wrap her in his arms and force this burning physical attraction she was feeling to fog over all of her beliefs, all of her convictions, until the only thing she cared about was the pleasure he could bring.

What kind of an awful person was she?

Kate turned to the bed, briskly pulling the covers back on one side only. “I’m exhausted. We have to be up by seven to get to the airport on time.” She turned to look directly at him. “If you want a bed, find Kenny. Otherwise, you’re on the couch.”

That was good. That was what she was supposed to say. It would keep him from coming any closer much more effectively than saying something like
kiss me now.

Jericho set his bottle on the windowsill behind him. He stood up in one fluid motion and moved toward the bed. “Kate—”

She backed away. “Jed, please don’t. I’m not strong enough to deal with this.”

“All evening long, all I could think of was—”

“Stop,” she said, her back hitting the wall. “Don’t say it!”

“You and me. In here. Alone. Kate, make love to me tonight.”

“Oh, God, you said it!”

“Please.”

“I didn’t have anything to drink,” she told him. “I have no excuses.”

“I know.” He was close enough for her to feel his body heat. But instead of leaning forward and covering her mouth with his, he slowly sank to his knees. He looked up at her from the floor, this beautiful, tuxedo-clad man with dark hair cascading down his back, and the most all-consuming fire glowing in his eyes. “Please,” he whispered again.

Kate couldn’t move.

He reached up and slowly took hold of the overlapped front of her robe, separating it to reveal her legs to his hungry eyes. He touched her then, first with his gaze and then with his mouth, kissing the inside of her knee, then higher, wending his sensuous way up her thigh.

She was trembling. She was actually shaking.

She knew what she should do. She should slip away, out of his grasp, walk to the other side of the room and tell him no. No, she didn’t want this.

But if she did, she’d be lying.

Kate could feel his hands at her waist, his fingers slipped up underneath her pajama top, warm against her bare skin. And then she felt him kiss her intimately, right through her pajamas. Softly at first, but then harder, deeper. She could feel his tongue, feel the wetness of his mouth through the thin cotton, feel him kissing and exploring as his hands slid down beneath her shorts to cup her derriere and hold her more securely against him.

It was shockingly intimate. She’d never known a man bold enough to think he could do such a thing. She waited
for a moment, listening for herself to tell him to stop, but all she could say was his name.

She was lost.

She felt her body arch, felt herself opening and moving toward him, wanting more. She laced her fingers through his hair, holding him in place, afraid that he would stop, afraid …

Then he did stop, pushing her legs together, but only to sweep her shorts down, off her body. And then he was kissing her, really kissing her, with nothing between them.

It didn’t seem fair that something so wrong could feel so right. But he didn’t love her, and she … No, she didn’t love him. She couldn’t love him.

But, oh, Lord, she loved the way he was making her feel.

And she wanted more.

“Please.” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

He lifted his head, looking up at her, and she sank down on the carpeting and kissed him.

He met her mouth with passion, kissing her harder, deeper, even more completely than he had earlier, out on the dance floor. The room seemed to spin around her as she tasted herself on his lips, as he pulled her onto his lap to straddle him, exploring with his fingers where his mouth had been mere moments before.

Then he pulled her robe off her shoulders, and she helped him, shaking it free from her arms. He broke free from their kisses to tug her pajama top over her head, groaning as he filled his hands with her breasts.

He drew her into his mouth, tugging and tasting, drawing harder and harder, until she, too, cried out.

Kate found his hardness through his pants, pressing herself against him shamelessly. She searched for the button, fumbled for the zipper, and he was there, reaching between them, freeing, and then covering himself with a condom he must’ve been carrying in his pocket.

The fact that he was so well prepared didn’t give her pause. She was only grateful as she felt him shift her hips, pressing her down, ensheathing him in one smooth move.

“Oh,
yeah
,” he breathed.

He pulled back then to look into her eyes, and what he saw must’ve been enough to let him know that she didn’t want to think, she didn’t want to stop, she only wanted to feel.

He rolled her over onto her back, setting a primitive rhythm right there on the floor as she tried to unbutton his shirt. She wanted to touch those incredible muscles he’d paraded in front of her for the past week. With one hand he yanked his shirt over his head, and she pulled him down on top of her, finally skin to skin.

He filled her deliciously hard and fast, plunging into her again and again, and she clung to him, her body straining to take more of him,
all
of him. He kissed her just as hard, taking her mouth just as possessively.

He pulled free from her, and he swung her into his arms, carrying her to the bed. She reached for him, but again he pulled back, quickly pushing his pants down and off his legs as he gazed at her, his eyes dark with need.

Kate propped herself up on her elbows, watching him just as hungrily.

He smiled then, a quick fierce smile that lit his face. “Look at you,” he said. “I’m living my fantasy.”

“Please,” she said, opening her legs to him, near delirious with desire.

He covered her with his body, filling her again with a single thrust, and she moaned her pleasure. Having him there, between her legs, the solid weight of his body against hers felt so right, so perfect.

Her fantasy would be to stay like this, right in this very moment, forever. Her fantasy would be to never have to wake up and face reality.

Her fantasy would be for Jed to kiss her—one of those
deep, soul-touching kisses that he did so marvelously well—and gaze into her eyes and tell her … what? That he loved her? That was ridiculous. What they were doing here had nothing to do with love.

Jed was moving more slowly now, each long, sensuous stroke sending waves of scorching pleasure rocketing through her. It was quite possibly the most exquisite sensation she’d ever felt in her life, but it was too beautiful, too intense. And it allowed her too much time to think.

She moved beneath him, and he picked up instantly on her harder, faster tempo, changing his rhythm, giving her exactly what she wanted.

Pure, mindless, deliciously frantic sex.

It was savage, it was wild, it was more passionate than anything she’d ever known. And her release was on a similarly grand scale—a raging storm of thunderous proportions, wave upon wave so intense that the pleasure was almost pain.

Almost.

She took him with her—felt him tighten, heard her name wrenched from his lips.

Ears still roaring, heart racing, her breath still coming in sobs, Kate clung to him. She didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want to have to open her eyes, didn’t want to have to look into his eyes, didn’t want to have to talk about it—or worse yet, not talk about it.

She felt Jed shift his weight off of her. He settled himself on the bed beside her, pulling her close—her back to his front. She felt him pull the bedcovers up over them, felt him reach for the lamp on the bedside table, heard the click.

When she opened her eyes, the room was dark.

It was as if he somehow knew.

He sighed deeply, possessively wrapping one arm around her, cupping her breast as he nestled close. He kissed her gently just below her ear and sighed again.

“Best night of my life,” he murmured.

His soft words made her heart leap. She knew it was foolish. She knew they were just words. And she knew what she and Jed had just shared was only sex. Nothing more.

But she closed her eyes, letting herself relax.

The dawn, with its harsh light and cold reality, would come soon enough.

“Y
ou’re up early.”

Kate looked up from her coffee to see Jericho standing in the kitchen door, a towel wrapped around his hips. She blushed, remembering the night before, remembering the way that she’d let him touch her, kiss her … Remembering, and wanting him to do it again, God help her.

She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “It’s not that early.”

“Are you okay?” he asked. The look in his eyes was almost funny. She could see his concern mingling with that heartbreakingly sweet vulnerability that she thought of as belonging to Laramie. He lowered his voice. “I didn’t … hurt you, did I?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, certain that she was about to be immediately arrested by the understatement police. She was so much better than fine. She was amazing. She was ecstatic. Physically, that was.