Kept (5 page)

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But when he’d pulled back, she knew that tight-lipped look.

He wanted her. "Friday – I’ll call you as soon as I can and let you know when. Be ready," he’d growled, then turned and walked back to the car without looking back.

Trish was more ready than she wanted to admit – to herself or to him.

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riday drew closer, Trish found herself growing more and more nervous, until the phone rang at about F seven Thursday evening and it was for her.

"Hello?"

"Trish? It’s Reed."

"Hi."

That was a truly unenthusiastic greeting, but he sloughed it off. Maybe she was ticked that he hadn’t called in three days. "Are we still on for Friday?"

"Yes."

Again, a very emotionless, level, neutral response. "If it’s all right with you, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at around six or so? We’ll have dinner and maybe see a movie?"

She didn’t think she’d live through the dinner or the movie, but whatever. "That’s fine. Where will we be, so I can let Kell and Maggs know where they can get a hold of me?"

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He gave her the name of one of the most expensive and elegant hotels in town, and there was no response on the other end.

"Are you all right?"

"I’m fine. Are you all right?"

Reed couldn’t help a smile at the question. "I’m definitely looking forward to seeing you again."

"I’m shaking in my boots, personally," Trish confessed blithely, to a deafening silence.

"You’re not kidding, are you?"

"No, I’m not. When you pick me up tomorrow you’ll be able to hear my knees knocking together . . . "

She heard a heavy sigh. "Would you rather not?"

"No, I’m not going to chicken out."

"So, tomorrow at six?"

"Tomorrow at six."

"I’ll see you then."

That was saying something, Trish thought. "Okay," she responded, hanging up the phone.

~ ~ ~

It was a quiet drive after he’d picked her up and loaded her overnight bag into the back of his Mercedes. Reed finally put his

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hand over hers, and found it ice cold. "Are you sure you’re okay with this?"

Trish was staring diligently out the window. "Uh-huh."

"You’re certain?"

He sounded really concerned, so once they got settled into their beautiful suite, she sat down on the end of the bed while he stowed their suitcases. "Reed, I would probably be close to this nervous even if we were madly in love. I don’t do new things well."

His head shot up. "You’re not trying to tell me you’re a virgin, are you?"

"God, no! You’re new to me, not sex."

He sat down beside her, gently patting her leg. "Shall we go down to dinner, or would you prefer to order up room service?"

Trish got up and started to pace nervously. It didn’t help that he was watching her like a hawk, with a worried look on his face. "Look. If we go to dinner now, I’m not going to taste anything I eat. I’m so nervous that I’m nauseous. Would you mind if we just did it once now and got it over with?"

Reed snorted, shaking his head. He knew she didn’t mean it to sound insulting, but it was a damned good thing he had a healthy ego in this department. "If that’s what you want."

Trish nodded, and Reed rose, unbuttoning his shirt to hang it in the closet. When he returned to stand in front of her, she hadn’t moved. "Uhhhhh, it’s gonna be kinda hard for me to make love to you while you’re fully clothed . . . "he hinted, spurring her into action.

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Paying scrupulous attention to her clothing, she hung her jacket on the other side of the closet from his, then pulled the silk shell over her head, only to slide it back down and head towards her suitcase, then into the bathroom.

Reed sank down on the bed with a sigh. He wondered if she’d really go through with this, or if he was going to have to chase her down the hall. He couldn’t believe how uneasy she was –

like she thought he was going to jump her or something.

Nude, and totally unselfconscious about it, he turned down both sides of the bed, then put the lights down low. Personally, he liked them full on while making love, but most women in his experience preferred total darkness. Dimmed lights were a nice compromise.

He sat back against the headboard and waited for her. And waited. And waited. Just before he was about to get up and go knock on the bathroom door, Trish reappeared in a very pretty, frothy pink nightgown, and made her way to the opposite side of the bed. She got in facing him, which surprised Reed a little, and scootched her way over to sit close to him.

A small, freezing hand burrowed its way into his as she met his eyes and said, "Kiss me, please?"

Lord knows, it was an invitation that Reed was not about to turn down. His warm lips settled over hers, just kissing her –

eagerly but carefully, as if he was afraid he’d scare her off. When it came to a natural end, she leaned a little away, saying, "Ahhhhh.

That was wonderful. You’re an exceptional kisser."

"Thank you, Madame," he mocked gravely, taking her other hand in his, trying to warm them both between his own.

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"Can I – can I touch you?" His chest was crying out to her fingers, inviting them to explore the plates of muscle beneath the lightly hairy flesh.

"By all means – any time, any where you like." Lying back, Reed brought her palms to rest on his well-defined pectorals, and Trish moved closer to him, sitting tailor fashioned as she ran her fingertips over every inch of his skin – except his nipples and genitals. She dragged just the ends of her fingers down the inside of his arms and wrists, then into his sensitive palms, circling once then moving out again over across to his other side and repeating the teasingly soft caresses. No woman had ever touched him so gently, as if she was afraid of hurting him, when it would always be the other way around; he was a big, strapping, strong man and was always very aware of the delicate vulnerability of the woman sharing his bed.

She found the pale flesh of his sides, tickling it quickly then exploring the taut flesh just below his navel with those barely-there teases before leaning over to suckle a small hard nipple for only a few seconds before leaving it bereft and aching for more, treating its twin the same callous way, then repeating the process until he wanted to capture her against him and force her to make a more satisfying effort.

"Do you like this?"

He was hard as a rock and already starting to pant, and she was still in her nightgown. "Hell, yes," he growled. "Take off your nightgown."

It was like flipping a switch; the wary look returned to her eyes, and she bit her lip.

"Would you like me to do it, honey?" Although he found her natural hesitation puzzling, it was also shyly endearing. He’d forgotten what a modest, reserved woman was like. Most of the

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women he dated lately left their clothes at the front door and raced him to the bed.

Trish nodded slowly, her heavy hair hiding her eyes. Reed leaned forward and found the hem of the frothy confection, then delved his big hands beneath it, running them slowly but surely up her thighs, pooling the pink material at his thick wrists and forearms as he raised his arms, sliding them up her vulnerable sides. "Put your arms up, sweetie," he whispered, pulling the gown over her head in one final motion.

Despite her considerable experience, she could not keep herself from crossing her arms over her breasts and hunching over a bit self-consciously. Reed clucked his tongue softly. "None of that, now," he chided softly. "Put your hands on my chest."

Trish looked up at him, trying to decide if she could ignore him or not. He didn’t look like he was going to tolerate being ignored, as usual, so she complied. "Now, why would you ever want to cover a body as beautiful as yours, Tricia?" He tried not to stare, instead pressing a kiss to the side of her cheek. "If you end up as my mistress I’m going to have it written into the agreement that you be nude at all times when we’re home alone." His mouth blazed a trail down her shoulder to her collar bone, stopping just at the slope of her breasts. "I am burning up at the idea of being able to reach out and touch you any time I like."

The hot wetness of his mouth captured and teased a nipple mercilessly, making her draw in a breath so deep she nearly fainted, but arching her back to allow him better access. Oh, God, it had been so long she’d forgotten the searing hot magic of having a man’s hands and mouth on her body. "That’s it, baby," came the encouraging murmur against her breast as his hands smoothed their way down her body, arranging her on her back as he claimed the right to touch every inch of her, contract or no contract. "There’s no need to be scared. The only thing I want is your pleasure."

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And he coaxed it from her by not taking "no" for an answer.

From the moment her back met the silk sheets, she was lost in the sensuality he conjured and commanded from her body, shivering wildly with each stroke of his hand, each erotic nip he took out of her sensitive flesh. Being laid out before him like a sexual buffet made her feel vulnerable while at the same time she found his size and strength strangely comforting. His movements were slow and sure, never grabby or rough, without seeming too practiced. Trish knew she was really no longer in control of her own body, but somehow, with him, that was okay. She knew he heard every moan she couldn’t suppress, that his watchful eyes catalogued each twitch and squirm.

When her nipples were tight and pleasure-sore, he sat up a bit. "Spread your legs for me, Trish. Let me see if you’re ready for me."

She couldn’t help the hot blush that suffused her skin at his words, legs treading in place futilely while her mind battled with her already throbbing genitals.

Reed only waited a short time before touching his hand to her knee, a silent reminder of his presence and the fact that his patience was not limitless. But he wanted her to open herself to him, to acknowledge that she wanted him, despite the fact that it still embarrassed her a little. Slowly, very slowly, her legs parted –

but he did not rush in to claim the ultimate prize. Instead he rewarded her with tiny kisses at her hairline, then a few insistent tugs at each tight, hard nipple. Christ, hearing this woman moan in pleasure got to him like nothing and no one else!

His hand followed its way up the exposed inside of her thigh to that wonderful, welcoming delta. Index and middle fingers carefully parted her outer lips, making her start just a little. "Shh-shhh-shhh," Reed soothed, taking her mouth with his as surely as his fingers were taking her pussy. He was elated to find copious

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honey and gathered moisture on his fingertips to bring up to that swollen button of flesh, feeling it become even larger and harder beneath his very slow, very deliberate ministrations.

Trish was breathing heavily, trying to back away from his kiss, but he caught her hair at the back of her neck and held her still while his fingers worked their ceaseless magic, rubbing over and over and over . . . He seemed to sense when more lubricant was needed and made the occasional foray to collect her tribute and bring it to where it was needed, but mostly he simply drew those two strong, slightly rough-skinned fingers across the top and down around each side of the most sensitive spot on her body, feeling her tense with each stroke until she screamed long and hard as he continued to make the same circuit; slowly and insistently drawing out every ounce of pleasure he could from her body.

Trish collapsed beneath him, her lips and teeth tingling from hyperventilation. She didn’t think she could have said where in the world she was at that moment. She was lost, and she wanted to stay lost for a while.

Reed was only too happy to oblige, kissing his way down her body just a few scant minutes later to press his claim with his mouth. Surprised and shocked and a little concerned that she probably couldn’t survive another orgasm like the first one, Tricia tried to move away from him, but her hips were in his hands, legs draped naturally over his shoulders, forcing them obscenely apart and giving him the unrestricted access he was seeking.

"No, please, I don’t think – " she panted, to no avail. As she was talking, her head whipping restlessly back and forth, he licked the index and middle fingers of his right hand, then pressed them slowly into her. Good God she was tight . . . and hot . . . and wet . .

. Reed swallowed hard. It was all he could do not to lever himself up and into her right now. But he wanted to see her explode in pleasure at his behest one more time before he lost himself in her.

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That glistening, pulsing bud was calling to him, and he soothed it with his lips and tongue while those two thick fingers pumped in and out of one of the most beautiful places he’d ever touched. She was wild beneath him, crying out with each deep plunge, whimpering as he flicked her ultra-sensitive, engorged clitty relentlessly until she climaxed in his mouth, arching and writhing uncontrollably, begging him to stop. Or not to stop. She couldn’t seem to decide which one she wanted more.

That same wicked mouth trailed wetly up her body as he mounted her with a devastating lack of haste. Tricia hadn’t paid much attention to his size, but he certainly had her attention now as he drove into her, splitting her wide open – legs splayed ungraciously and still hooked over his shoulders, pussy stretched to the absolute limit as he sank within her to the hilt.

Oh, those delicious little whimpers of pleasure-pain she was emitting drove him absolutely over the edge and he just had to move even though he would have preferred to savor the moment.