Hurts So Good (17 page)

Neil wiped his brow, appearing relieved for the distraction. "With good reason. I've slept with an assortment of women—nothing to brag about, not when I can't remember most of their names. But one thing I never forget is to protect myself—paternity suits being as much a threat as a social disease."

"You don't think I would threaten you like that, do you?"

"God, no! That's not what I meant at all,
chere.
You're no one-night stand, and no matter where we go from here, I could never forget you." Without warning, his hand slid between her legs. Then his upper lip lifted in a sexy leer. "These cutoffs are fairly well drenched, and I think we'd both feel lots better with them off while we talk about arithmetic."

"Arithmetic?" The glide of his hand, lifting, lifting, until she stood on tiptoe, stole her breath. And then her precarious balance as he worked around bunched denim and panties to swirl a fingertip over her cleft.

"You know, one plus one makes two. Till we get in bed and reverse it—two making one. Of course, there's multiplication. Just curious, but how do you feel about factoring?"

"Ah... ah—math wasn't my best subject."

"Seems you could use help. What-say I volunteer to be your tutor? Maybe we'll both learn something before the final exams."

Chapter 13

He dropped to his knees. His teeth gripped the bit of denim beside the snap on her shorts and jerked. Andrea stood motionless as the rasp of a zipper being opened filled her ears.

She watched as he rubbed his nose against the deep V of her silk panties, breathing her in deeply until she whimpered and her legs almost gave way while he slowly pulled down the undergarment. Neil tapped her ankles in a silent command for her to step out.

"I see you don't color your hair,
chere.
And it feels as silky as that on your head. Now I have a need to find out if what's behind it is as delicious as the rest of you. Do you mind?"

The fact that he'd asked, when she was quite certain asking wasn't in his résumé any more than talking about his past, touched her. Then he touched her with two broad fingertips, opening her and gently massaging. Into the parted folds he blew a warm stream of air, then kissed her softly.

"May I?" he whispered. "Please."

His slumberous gaze lifted to hers while one large hand came around to stroke her buttocks before tilting her hips forward. Her voice was nowhere to be found, and so she gave a curt nod.

His tongue slid into her.

She'd never been so exposed. Everything that made her a woman was naked, on display for his slitted gaze that held hers, absorbing each raw emotion she felt on her face. She watched him take in each nuance while he took her to a place she'd never been. Taking her there with languorous brushes, then rapid flicks.

Dear Lord, what was happening to her? What was he doing to her? Tears were in her eyes, sliding down her cheeks. It was too much, too overwhelming in its poignancy.

And in its pain.

"I hurt, Neil. You're making me hurt."

"Hurt more. With me. I want us to hurt together."

"So good?" she asked, feeling the pain of need. For release. For him. Her body was too empty, and her heart was grasping, contracting in time to her womb that yearned to take him, all of him, until she was full and he was empty.

"It's good," he mouthed against her. "Better than good—it's right." He caught her as her knees buckled, and he shifted his arm beneath them. Lifting her, he quickly strode to the bed and put her down there.

She reached for him, but he remained standing. "Neil?"

"Playtime's over,
chere.
We're getting serious." He went to the coffee table, and in the candlelight she saw a glimmer of silver and gold before he returned, clenching it in his palm.

"What is that?"

"My mouthpiece," he whispered caressing it. "It's made to last, and I take good care of it. That's how I feel about you. And because I do, I'm asking for a special privilege."

"Why?" she asked, gripping the sheet beneath.

"Because this is my soul, something I want touching your body before I put it to my mouth again. I need this from you, and I want to give you something I've never given another. Will you take it? Just the same as taking me, only a lot more personal."

She was beyond words. She was beyond anything but surrendering herself to trust and spreading her arms.

Neil's face was set in somber lines as he straddled her hips and knelt over her. His gaze searched and burned into hers while he pressed a lingering kiss to the mouthpiece.

"Now, you." He grazed it against her lips. "Kiss it," he whispered. "Kiss it and pretend it's me. But you don't have to pretend, not really. Because it is...
me."

Andrea closed her eyes and welcomed the metal with her lips and tongue. His hoarse groan echoed her whimper when he withdrew it from her avid mouth. Wanting to see him, to know if the need she felt pressed against her belly was also in his face, she opened her eyes and saw...

His gaze was trancelike, drawing her deeper into the spell he wove so completely with the wet tip he traced over her chin, down her throat, and then around her breasts. Figure eights he drew, each one smaller than the last until he was circling her nipples. Lingering now, flicking each peak lightly, then not so lightly, and then there was the soft pinch between his thumb and the metal.

A low, keening wail rose from her throat, and there he pressed his tongue. So warm, so wet, so not nearly enough.

As he had pressed her shoulders to urge her to the floor, she pressed his until he kissed his way down and parted her legs with a gentle pressure. Why were they quivering so? she wondered, as something wild and as uncontrolled as the shaking of her legs overtook her.

He bit softly into one inner thigh and then the other, all the while gliding the mouthpiece over her belly, down her legs, then tracing the underside of her crooked knees. He was playing her body, playing it with the same magic he commanded from the instrument he held.

"Feel me," he growled, and parted her for the first sleek stroke. "Do you feel me? Hard and demanding, but for you, only for you. Do you?"

"I feel you," she said brokenly, gripping his head and arching in a demand for more. "Take me. This isn't enough.
Take me."

"It would be my pleasure." His mouth was suddenly on her, open and wet and hurting her so good. What he was doing to her would be with her for the rest of her life. How could she ever forget this... this unending smooth glide between her legs that called forth a need that was nearly agony, a need he had to fill because she was so empty she was screaming for him to be inside her?

And then he was. She felt the texture of skin, the warmth of flesh, the length of a single finger and then two stroking slowly, carefully. She demanded his fierceness as he continued to glide the mouthpiece over her cleft with a teasing, light brush.

It was a maestro's baton, and she was the instrument he played as if she'd been fashioned for his hands only. Sure hands, loving hands that took her higher, higher...

So high she soared, her repeated cry of his name proclaiming ecstasy.

Why did it have to end? She grasped to reclaim the wonder, but it was gone... except for the tingling glow that lingered like a phantom spirit.

"Andrea," he whispered against her ear. "Open your eyes and look at me."

His smile was intimate and sweet and yet infinitely male. She'd never seen him this way, and somehow she knew the smile was reserved just for her, and her lips answered in kind.

"Thank you,
chere.
Every time I use this, I'll think of you, of now, and play like never before." His gaze, an echo of his smile, held hers as he kissed his mouthpiece. Then he laid it beside her doll before wrapping her in a fierce embrace.

Her head rested against his chest, and she stroked it while he stroked back her hair and tenderly kissed her brow. His palm cupped her hip and urged her leg over his. Andrea's upper thigh, still wet from his kisses, brushed against his groin. He groaned, and she reached to touch him.

Neil caught her wrist and brought it back to his chest.

"Neil?"

"I'm thinking, and I can't think too well when you do that. Why don't you take a little snooze? Don't worry, I'll rouse you before I take off."

Rouse her? Before he left? Just where did he think he was going? And as for taking a little snooze, she had no intentions of nodding off, not when she was aroused.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured silkily. "Oh, and about that possibility we were discussin' earlier? It has become a most certain certainty. I do love you. Nighty-night,
chere."

"Neil," she groaned, "I can't go to sleep. I don't even
want
to go to sleep."

"Then what do you want?"

"What do you
think
I want?" she panted, ready to throw him on his back, mount him, and
take
what he was withholding. "Make love to me. Neil. Sweet heaven, what are you waiting for?"

His dark laughter filled her ear as his shadowed face loomed over hers. "Somewhere between body shots and now I realized just how much I need you in my world. Maybe more than you could ever need me in yours. What am I waiting for? A sign from you that we've got a most mutual need."

"A
sign?
What are you looking for? A billboard, skywriting? Of course it's mutual. I
need
you. All of you. In my life. And in my body.
Now."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! What do you want me to do, beg?"

"Music to my ears. Beg for me?" He kissed her hard and madly until she tore her mouth from his.
"Beg for me.
Say please. Please, Neil, I love you and I want you. Tonight. Tomorrow. I need you so much that I'll die if you leave."

"Don't leave," she pleaded. "Never leave. Please. I love you. I want you, all of you—"

"Are you really sure? It's important that you know the rest of the equation before answering."

Somehow she realized this was a power play, a glimpse into a future that involved a man who liked to call the shots in and out of bed.

"What's your game?" she demanded haltingly.

"No game. I want to strike a deal. I'll cut down my drinking, maybe even the smokes. As for other women, they don't exist. In exchange you put up with my moods, which, as you know, can be taxing.
And
you share my bed. I do tend to be quite taxing there too. If you can live with that, I do believe we can live together. Say... my place? Just till I get this one fixed up. I'll be glad to help you pack in the mornin'. If you need some time to think, I can leave."

He rolled off her, and she grabbed him back. Her legs twined around his. He lay flush on top and teased her with a small nudge that placed him barely inside.

"How—how can you be so manipulative?" She bit his shoulder in outrage, in passion.

"Ohhh, that's good. A bit more than a nip, but not hard enough to draw blood. Just the way I like it. I believe you deserve a little reward, learning so fast." He rocked forward slightly, and she cried for more of him.

"Sorry," he murmured, "as much as I'd love to oblige, I'm still in need of your answer."

"Damn you, Neil!
Damn you.
You set me up! I don't believe it. How could... after... you conniving, unscrupulous bastard, you actually set me up!"

"My, what a colorful vocabulary you have. Not that I blame you for giving me a tongue-lashing—and such a talented tongue it is—since I am guilty as charged. But, Andrea, surely you realize this wasn't easy for me, coming here tonight. We're talking a very big compromise. I'm asking you to meet me halfway."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we've got a real problem on our hands. And till it's worked out, best we sleep in separate beds."

"You'd actually be cruel enough to leave me like this?"

"Aw no,
chere.
I'm afraid I'd do something crueler.
This."
He claimed her fully with a sudden quick jerk.