It Takes a Rebel (18 page)

stale relationship with Heath. Using a bar of raspberry scented soap, she lathered her body with a rich layer of suds,

luxuriating in the aroma.

The kiss had simply … happened. What had he said?
A little friendly curiosity—now satisfied.
She frowned as she rinsed

her hair. It certainly hadn't taken him long to decide she wasn't worth the trouble.

She emerged from the soothing spray reluctantly, and dressed slowly in cotton leggings and an oversized T-shirt that she

knotted at her waist.

After all, a girl had feelings.

Opting to let her hair dry naturally, she crossed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door on the off chance that a veggie

pizza from Malone's had materialized in her absence. It hadn't.

Obviously she wasn't as hot as the women he was used to … having.

Morose, she stuck her finger into the carton of fudge icing for an unhealthy gob of the stuff, and sucked it off as she wandered

around the apartment feeling restless and prickly. She turned on the television and flicked through the channels before

switching it off again. She considered calling Heath, but for some reason she resisted, stubbornly clinging to the electrical

awareness she'd experienced when Jack kissed her. Wise or not, the desire still swimming in her stomach felt good.

Exhilarating. Had Heath's kisses ever made her feel so disoriented and foolhardy? Surely she would have remembered this,

this, this
bizarre
jittery sensation.

Alex dropped into her favorite chair and leaned her head back with a sigh, hugging a pillow to her chest. So she lusted for

the man—so schlep her into the same category as every other woman who crossed his wayward path. With a wry smile she

acknowledged that as much as she liked to think she pursued lofty, esoteric goals, she wasn't above base passion.

What a blow to realize that sex, not commerce, made the world go around.

But what a relief to know that she was capable of the kind of desire that Lana espoused.

Right on cue, the rapid knock on her door announced the arrival of her friend. Anxious to unload her new revelation, despite

the ribbing she knew she was due, Alex abandoned the pillow, padded to the door, then swung it open.

But her pulse spiked when Jack's broad shadow fell across her doorway, swallowing her. He stood, hands at his sides, legs

wide, head slightly bowed, his face obscured in the darkness. Her throat tightened, squeezing off her ability to talk as reasons

for him returning raced through her mind. He was having engine trouble. He wanted to discuss Monday's shoot. He wanted to

grab a bite to eat somewhere. He needed directions.

"I came back to finish what we started."

Or he'd come back to finish what they'd started
. She swallowed as the raw longing in his voice cut through her. It was

crazy, the way her body responded to the magnetism emanating from him. Crazy and wonderfully overwhelming, and worthy of

exploration. Before she could process a rational thought, Alex stepped forward, looped her arms around his neck, and pulled

his mouth down to hers. His gladdened groan sent a wake-up call to every nerve in her body, and his arms moved fluidly to

encircle her waist. His lips were hungry, hard, urgent. His body was taut for her, and the knowledge sent moisture to the

juncture of her thighs.

Reaching lower to cup her bottom, he lifted her off her feet and carried her inside. He kicked the door closed behind them.

She lost track of time and their direction, but was gratified sometime later to feel the softness of her bed at her back. Her thighs

opened to accommodate him as he stretched atop her. He pressed her deep into the covers, his body alive with movement—his

mouth devouring hers, his hands beneath her, pulling her hips against his hardness.

His blatant desire for her fueled the destruction of her own inhibitions. Alex summoned the energy to push at the leather

jacket around his shoulders, forcing him to shift and shed the garment. His gaze locked with hers, his eyes heavy-lidded and

glazed, his open lips transferring air in and out of his lungs with heavy gasps. She moved in a liquid haze, carried along by a

tide of passion. With one quick jerk, the snaps on the front of his denim shirt were freed, laying his chest bare to her seeking

fingers. In another second, the shirt was gone. She scarcely had time to register the corded beauty of his upper body before he

tugged the knot of her shirt loose and shimmied the thin material over her head to bare her to the waist as well.

After a glance of appreciation that warmed her, he fell upon her, his palms closing around her breasts, coning the tips for his

seeking mouth. Alex cried aloud when he suckled her, reveling in the brush of his chest hair against her skin. He drew her flesh

deep into his hot mouth, his moan vibrating against her sensitive nipple. Nearly blind with wanting him, Alex threaded her

fingers through his hair and urged him to draw harder. At her insistence, his tending escalated from gentle laving to little bites

that left her twitching. Slowly, he kissed a trail to her waistband, then pushed himself to his feet, rolling her thin pants down

her legs as he stood.

Jack was so worked up at the thought of making love to Alex that he nearly came at the sight of her nudity, a jolt to his

already electrified system. She was breathtaking—long-limbed and toned, with high, jutting breasts, and a slender waist that

gave way to a generous swell of hip and taut thighs. Gritting his teeth for control, he leaned forward, grasped her by the waist,

and pulled her to the edge of the bed, loving the contrast of her dark hair splayed against the white comforter, loving more that

the tall bed was just the right height for him to make love to her in a most enjoyable position.

With little urging, she opened her knees, revealing the glistening pink petals of her womanhood, sending her musky scent to

torment him further. With rapidly vanishing restraint, he stood between her knees, probing her with careful fingers, readying

her for his body until her moans and undulations became too much to endure. Feeling like a schoolboy in his haste, Jack

fumbled with the front of his pants. It was as if his body had never done this before, a reaction that triggered a small alarm in

the recesses of his blood-deprived brain. At last he freed his raging erection, which answered her mewling call with a few

drops of oozing lubrication. Never before had he been tempted to skip a condom, which in and of itself sobered him enough to

slow down for a heartbeat. Fishing in his back pocket for his wallet, he prayed he'd replaced the last one he'd used, because

only a word of refusal from Alex could stop him now, protection or no.

His knees practically buckled with relief when he found one, and he set a record rolling it on. A split second of guilt barbed

through him for not at least removing his jeans, but Alex already had him so close to the brink, he didn't want to risk taking the

time. And if truth be known, he wanted her so badly, he couldn't bear the thought of another delay. Trembling with anticipation,

he pulled her knees to his waist and pushed the tip of his erection against her wetness. Her leg muscles tensed and a moan tore

from her lips as he thrust inside her unbelievably tight channel, setting his jaw for maximum restraint against the torrent of fire

that consumed him.

He moved cautiously, filling her and retreating with climbing desire. Jack was struck by the erotic sight of her, arms wide,

hands fisted in the white comforter, back arched, breasts high, mouth moving with alternate coos and gasps. Her vocal

responses bolstered his confidence that he was stimulating her in the way she wanted, and carried his own climax close to the

surface. He coaxed her to his plane, drawing her legs up to rest against his shoulders, kissing her ankles as he thrust deeper and

deeper and murmuring how incredible she felt wrapped around him. Escalation of the noises emerging from her throat alerted

him that she was nearing climax, driving him to thrust harder and faster while tensing to contain his own release.

From her body's state of disarray, Alex sensed the approaching orgasm would surpass her previous experiences, but she

wasn't prepared for the mind-numbing, muscle-stealing explosion of euphoria that broke over her body in waves. Shameless in

her abandon, she cried out his name, bucking against the steel rod of his flesh imbedded in her.

She had just started to descend to Earth when Jack's body went rigid and he growled his release against her leg. Alex

reveled in the light pressure of his teeth, the hot blasts of his ragged breath on her skin.

He was magnificent in the dim lighting, the toned planes of his stomach contracting and relaxing in quick spasms. She was

fascinated by the juncture of their bodies, which seemed almost surreal. His jeans rode just low enough on his lean hips to

allow his body access to hers, a sharp contrast to her complete nakedness. As cool air hit her body, Alex began to feel

exposed, and whispers of remorse nudged at her. She moved to disengage their bodies, eliciting a clutching groan from Jack.

He held her to him while controlling his careful withdrawal, a satisfied smile on his handsome face.

Alex eased back onto the pillows at the head of her bed, her body singing with completion, humming with unimagined

indulgence. She clung to the sensation of their mutual pleasure, postponing the inevitable regret.

Jack, on the other hand, seemed undaunted by their indiscretion. He pulled away the sheet when she attempted to cover

herself, and kissed her breasts leisurely. "You are so incredibly beautiful," he whispered against her skin, evoking another

wave of desire through her body. Within the space of a heartbeat, he drew her back into the tantalizing languor of his embrace,

nuzzling her neck, kissing her thoroughly before rolling over to lie next to her. His sigh fanned her temple.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he said, "but I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it since the first time we met."

Alex closed her eyes, berating herself. She'd imagined a budding emotional connection between them today, when they'd

really only shared a few laughs, a few drinks, and a few looks. He'd wanted to sleep with her from the beginning, so he'd

behaved accordingly. Yes, they'd developed a rapport. Yes, they'd had fun. Yes, they were physically compatible. But she'd

been so desperate for that elusive … soul mate … that she'd conjured up feelings between them that simply didn't exist. Darn

Lana and all her talk about passion.

"Are you sleeping?" he whispered.

"No," she managed to say. "Just thinking."

"Hey, don't get too deep on me," he teased. "Is your bathroom close by?"

A stone of comprehension fell to the bottom of her stomach. Speechless, she gestured toward the door, her vision blurred

with tears as she watched him cross to the bathroom, his pants still undone.

When the door closed, she covered her face with her hands. What had she done? Spread her legs for Jack Stillman, a man she

neither liked nor respected, and someone she'd have to work with for at least the next several days. She moved jerkily from the

bed to yank on her discarded clothing, biting back a sob when her ring caught on her T-shirt. With a shaky hand, she hung Jack's

shirt from a bed-post, then hastily smoothed the telltale wrinkles from the white comforter.

If only the episode could be so easily erased from her mind, she acknowledged with a trembling sigh. She'd never been loose

with her body, had never handed over the precious commodity of herself without a level of emotional commitment from her

partner. So why now, why Jack Stillman? Sure, he was handsome, but Lexington had its share of nice-looking men.

Alex sank her teeth into her lower lip.
Heath
. Oh, no, what had she done?

When the bathroom door opened, she nearly jumped out of her shin. Jack emerged wearing a smile, the fly of his jeans still

zipped, but unbuttoned. Sex appeal rolled off the man's naked torso, necessitating the need to turn her back. At the sound of his

approaching footsteps, she realized that he still wore his riding boots, just another reminder that their encounter had been quick

and dirty.

"I'm hungry," he murmured into her ear from behind, his arms snaking around her middle.

"I'm not," she said distinctly, unlocking his hands and walking out of his embrace.

"What's this?"

She inhaled deeply, then turned to face him, arms folded over her breasts, which still tingled from his touch. "What's what?"

He frowned, hands on lean hips. "This attitude."

Alex swallowed, terrified that he looked so good to her, even after their hurried sex. The episode was obviously nothing

unusual for him—he probably knocked on doors and wound up in strange beds all the time. A man like Jack would never

understand what a monumental mistake their few minutes together represented to her. Keeping her voice level, she said, "You

need to fasten your pants and leave, Jack."

One eyebrow arrowed up. "That's it? Fasten my pants and leave?" His voice was low, but tinged with anger.