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Authors: Barbara Boswell

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License to Love (17 page)

BOOK: License to Love
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Steve saw the anxiety shadow her face and correctly interpreted the consternation flickering in her eyes. He cupped her cheek with his hand, gently stroking the soft skin with his fingertips. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“It’s just—after that—” She paused, took a deep breath and tried again. “I don’t know what to say to you,” she admitted hesitantly.

“Say whatever you want. There is no script we have to follow, Michelle.’ ’ He rolled on top of her, pinning her down on the mattress, adjusting his body to hers so she could feel the insistent heat of his arousal. “Although I could offer a few suggestions. How about, ‘Oh Steve, you’re a marvelous lover!’” he trilled in a ridiculous falsetto. His dark eyes glittered with an irresistible combination of humor and passion. “Or, ‘Steve, you’re my hunka hunk of burning love,’ will do nicely, too.”

Michelle laughed, her insecurity dissolving in a barrage of more powerful emotions and sensations. “I love you,” she whispered. Those were the words she’d been looking for. And they were surprisingly easy to say.

Steve didn’t react to her declaration; she hadn’t expected him to. It might be the first time she’d made an impassioned claim of love, but she knew it wasn’t Steve’s first time to hear one. A man with his looks, charm and sex appeal, combined with his ability to use all three to his advantage would’ve been hearing “I love yous” from amorous females since elementary school.

Such thoughts were disquieting and disturbing, but she pushed them away. This was no time to get cerebral. She loved Steve, faults and all, in spite of his past.

Michelle wrapped her arms around Steve, holding him tightly. The starched cloth of his shirt rubbed her bare breasts. Her nipples were almost unbearably sensitive. His trouser-clad legs were entwined with her naked limbs and she was once again erotically, arousingly aware that she was nude and he was not. That sharp, secret throbbing that had been eased only a few moments before began to build again.

“Take off your clothes,” she murmured, rather amazed at her own boldness. But this was no time for an attack of virginal nerves. She was a mature woman with the man she loved, the man she’d been waiting for her entire life. The man who would soon become her lover. She slipped her hands between their bodies and tried to undo the buttons on his shirt.

Steve rolled on his side and ably assisted her in divesting himself of his shirt. She was relieved when he continued to undress on his own, though she watched with wide, avid eyes. Her pulses were racing. She felt wired with excitement, her skin tingled and an aching warmth swelled and throbbed deep within her.

She drew a sharp breath at the sight of his nude body. He was splendid, powerful, male and strong, with corded arms, and a muscular chest covered with an intriguing dark, curly mat that tapered to a V at his navel and then arrowed

downward. His stomach was flat, his thighs, long, lean and ; powerfully muscled. And it was visibly apparent that he : wanted her very much.

Michelle wanted to touch him, to feel his strength and his hardness, to explore the contrasting textures of his smooth skin and wiry masculine pelt. She reached out her hand to him, welcoming, beckoning, her smile as timeless as Eve’s.

Steve sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at her for a long moment. “I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you right now,” he said. “Hell, I’ve never wanted
anything
as much as I want you.”

He lay down beside her, propping himself up on one elbow so he could watch her as he skimmed his other hand along the shapely length of her body. He wanted her desperately, but the anticipatory torment was so delicious in itself that he held himself back.

For now, he limited himself to the pleasures of looking at her, of touching her where his eyes strayed. The plump fullness of her pretty pink and white breasts, the hollow of her waist and womanly curve of her hips. Her thighs were femininely rounded, her legs well shaped. He smoothed his hands along the outside of them, then slipped between them, gliding upward to the creamy softness of her inner thighs.

Michelle moved sinuously, sensuously under his hands, unable to lie still, wanting and aching and needing to give. It was no longer enough to lie submissively as he petted her; she needed to give him pleasure, to learn hisixrdy as he was learning hers.

She framed his face with her hands, then touched her mouth to his, again and again in a series of sweet, soft kisses. Using the tip of her tongue, she traced the outline of his lips, then slipped between them to tease his tongue into a caressive little duel.

“Michelle,” he groaned her name. She rarely took the initiative physically, letting him make the first move, be it kisses or caresses. Now her passionate feminine aggression sent him reeling. It was an effort to speak at all with the powerful coil of desire tight and sharp within him, consuming him with need.

“I can’t wait any longer.” Hadn’t he already waited a lifetime for her? It felt that way, as if his life hadn’t really begun until she’d entered it. The thought was so profound and so unsettling that he quickly blocked it out, concentrating instead on the incredible, unbelievable storm of pleasure her soft hands were evoking within him. For she had found the pulsating male strength of him and was scrupulously exploring the size, shape and length with her fingertips.

“Here.” Twisting, reaching, he grabbed his slacks that he’d dropped on the floor and retrieved a foil packet from the pocket. He thrust it into Michelle’s hand. “Put this on.” Michelle stared at it bewilderedly. Then the light dawned and she nearly giggled. “For a moment or two, I wasn’t sure what you meant. You see, I’ve never—helped a man put on a condom before.”

Steve took the packet from her. “That’s okay, honey. I’ll do it. It’s probably just as well. I think I’ll explode if you touch me again.”

Michelle watched, fascinated, as he sheathed himself with astonishing efficiency. It occurred to her that she hadn’t given a thought to protection and she was grateful that Steve had. Vaguely, she recalled his frantic fears of learning that he might be “eligible for a tie and a card on Father’s Day” through sexual carelessness. She certainly didn’t want any bouncing baby mistakes, either. After all, she’d been one herself.

But it was slightly disconcerting to realize that she’d been completely lost in the heady heights of passion while Steve remained aware and prepared. “Have you ever forgotten?” she asked curiously. “Been so caught up in the heat of the moment that you either forgot or decided to risk it?”

“Never. I’m not stupid. I’m a risk-taker in some areas but not in that one.” He eased her onto her back as he spoke, coming down on top of her. “And I’ve never been so
swept away
that I couldn’t see the consequences looming before
me.

“I just was,” she whispered to herself. The hair on his chest felt wonderfully, sensually abrasive against her nipples. Steve was moving between her legs to make a place for himself there and she savored the full male pressure of his body. “With you. I—can’t seem to think at all when you— when we—” Her voice trailed off and she gave a husky laugh. “I can’t seem to talk, either.”

“You have a similarly mind-blowing effect on me.” His dark gaze locked with hers as his hands lifted her hips, positioning her to receive him.

Michelle felt him hard and hot against her and she inhaled sharply. She closed her eyes as he moved into her tight satin heat, pressing slowly, inexorably in. There was a sharp stab of pain as her body stretched to admit him and Michelle clamped her teeth down on her lip to keep from crying out. She could feel involuntary tears seep from the corners of her eyes.

And then he was deep inside her, full and hard. He lay there, breathing heavily, feeling her body adjust to accomodate him. “Ah, Michelle. You’re so tight, so hot and sleek.” He heaved a groan pleasure. You're perfect for me.”

“Yes, I am,” Michelle agreed throatily. “And not just in bed, either.” The burning, stretching pain was slowly dissolving, giving way to a melting, dizzying pleasure.

He began to move and the pleasure swept through her in rhythmic waves, consuming and intimate and intense. The exquisite sensations radiating through her were like nothing she had ever experienced. Instinctively she moved in counterpoint to his rhythm, a passionate advance and retreat. Tension built and excitement soared, a rapturous heat shimmered through them, connecting them, bonding them, fierce and frantic and wild.

Michelle cried his name as the fever seared her, exploding her senses in a pleasure beyond description. Her body shuddered and clenched and she clung to Steve as the only anchor in a whirling, swirling sea of sensation.

Deep inside her, sheathed in ecstasy, Steve wanted to sustain the pleasure, but it was so immense, so intense, that Michelle’s cries of completion and her sweet, inner contractions triggered his own shattering release.

And echoing in his head all through the pulsing climactic rapture was Michelle’s husky, passionate avowal of love for him.

Eight

It was a long time before either of them surfaced, and even after Steve had disengaged their bodies, Michelle lay cradled in his arms, basking in the warm sensual afterglow. They lay together silently. Only the noise of the traffic outside and an occasional thud in the living room—Burton jumping on and off the furniture in pursuit of his mouse-broke the stillness.

Michelle didn’t mind the silence. She didn’t need words, she was too absorbed in her thoughts and her feelings to talk. And her thoughts and feelings were all of Steve. How much she loved him. How her love for him transcended the sexual attraction between them and elevated the physical pleasure they’d just shared. How it wasn’t just sex between them. It was love, the deep, true and abiding love she’d wished and dreamed and prayed for all her life.

Steve was thinking, too, but his thoughts were not of true love. His mind was replaying the sensual idyll that had just transpired between them and this time he picked up certain relevant, pertinent details he had missed while under the influence of the driving force of sexual hunger. And though it appeared that Michelle would be perfectly content to lie quietly, though his own blissfully drained body would prefer that, too, he knew there were certain things that could not be left unsaid.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”

For a second or two, the question seemed to hang in the silence between them, until Michelle chirped brightly, “Not anymore.”

She raised her head and grinned at him. She felt wonderful, filled with joy and love, vibrantly alive and deeply in love. She and Steve belonged together. It was elemental, natural and right. And so obvious; soon he would have to realize it, too.

The sunny warmth of her smile worked its magic on him. He was unable to sustain the emotional distance he’d been silently building—or any physical distance, either. He took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing her palm. “You should have told me,” he scolded mildly.

Michelle shrugged. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“Michelle, losing your virginity is a big deal.”

She laughed, she couldn’t help it. Sheer happiness was shimmering through her in radiant waves. “Some would say I was way overdue in losing mine.” Emotional tears shone in her eyes as she gazed lovingly at him. “But I’m so glad I waited, Steve... that my first time was with you.”

What could he say to that? What could he do but gather her even closer and kiss her until, astonishingly, he felt the stirrings of arousal again.
Again! After he’d just had her, he wanted her again!
That had certainly never happened to him before. After sex, he usually fell into a replete sleep or left the premises satiated, without any further need or desire for more contact. But then, his emotions had never been engaged before, not like now, the way they were with Michelle. They’d spent too much time together, their relationship was too layered, too complex for him to simply turn away from her.

But even this disconcerting evidence of his involvement didn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around her and rolling onto his back, taking her with him so that she lay sprawled on top of him. Michelle laughed with delight, enjoying the sensual freedom this new position afforded her.

“I should be mad as hell at you for not telling me the truth,” Steve said, sighing. “Not knowing. ..I could’ve hurt you, Michelle.”

“But you didn’t,” she replied softly, feathering her Ups along the strong line of his jaw. “You made it wonderful for me, Steve.”

Steve caressed her, savoring the silky smooth texture of her skin. There was another reason why he should be furious with her, a far more selfish one. If giving one’s virginity was a gift of love, then she’d made him the unwitting recipient of a gift he had never wanted. Had never asked for. He knew all about virgins and had always made it a point to avoid them. They came with too many strings attached, like love and promises, the ties that bind. Michelle had told him she loved him. Of course. To a twenty-five-year-old virgin, love and sex had to be irrevocably entwined.

Steve thought of his sister Jamie, the only other twenty-something virgin he had ever known. Rand Marshall, the man she’d finally allowed to take her to bed, had been a lot like Steve himself. A happy-go-lucky guy who liked women and good times, a guy in no hurry to give up his freedom and alter his fun and games life-style. Enter Jamie Saraceni and wham! Rand Marshall was hopelessly ensnared. Marriage and a baby had followed, fun and freedom had ended. Everytime Steve looked at his now thoroughly domesticated brother-in-law, he was struck with an acute case of schadenfreude.

And judging by the way he was carrying on with Michelle, the next time the wedding bells tolled, they would be tolling for him, Steve Saraceni.

Steve went hot, then cold, as if he were suffering fever and chills. Carefully he put Michelle away from him, and sat up.

“Steve?” She caressed his arm, her big blue eyes questioning. “Is there something wrong?”

“Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?” he replied in a voice filled with hearty faux cheer. “But it—it suddenly occurred to me that while we’re lying here in your sister’s bed, she might arrive at any moment. That could definitely be a bit awkward.”

BOOK: License to Love
11.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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