Love in Bloom (27 page)

"Maybe they do.  But I'm not going to invite the curiosity."  He shrugged off the seriousness and smiled.  "I'm curious right now about..."  He kissed her neck.  "Whether you'd rather be kissed here..."  He kissed just above her breast.  "Or here."

The sensuous feel of his lips brought a sigh.  He could melt her with a lot less.  "Anywhere's fine."

"Woman," he growled.  "You know just the thing to say."

Her heart fluttered and she took refuge in honesty.  "But not exactly what to do."

"You do everything just fine."

He brushed his lips across hers slightly once, twice.  She clasped his shoulders to pull him to her.  He kissed the tip of her nose.  "Huh uh.  Not this time.  You're not going to hurry me."

"Don't you want me to touch you, to hold you?"

"Oh, yes.  But not too soon.  Not yet."  He took one of her hands, laced his fingers with hers, and held it above her shoulder.  Then he took her other hand and drew her forefinger into his mouth.

First she felt a prick of beard, then the hot firmness of his lips.  When his tongue swirled the tip of her finger, she released a small puff of air from the intense pleasure he was delivering.  He sucked on her finger until she was breathing fast and moving restively against the sheet.

Smiling, he eased onto her body slowly, settling between her legs.

"Oh, Clay."

"What, Paige?"

"I feel so hot."

"And getting hotter," he murmured as he placed a kiss between her breasts.

Paige's breasts ached.  She needed him to touch them, kiss them.  But he didn't.  He teased around them, driving her crazy.  Heat gathered between her thighs, a heat like she'd never known.

She arched against him.  Clay looked up, his eyes filled with green fire.  His gaze moved from hers, to her lips, to her breasts, rosy with passion.  The fire blazed brighter.  She arched against him again and he swallowed hard.

"You're really trying to hurry me, aren't you?" he asked in a raspy voice.

"I ache for you, Clay.  I want you inside me."

He took a deep breath and shook his head.  "Patience, Paige."

"I have plenty of them," she mumbled.

He grinned and bent his head to her stomach.  He kissed along her ribs while his hands sketched delicious patterns on her thighs.  When he laved her navel, she threaded her fingers in his hair.

She felt soft, enticing pressure behind her legs and she shivered.  He was urging her to raise her knees.  She felt so vulnerable, so open, and suddenly she was scared.

His breath was warm on her skin, his expression was gentle.  "Don't be afraid, Paige.  I won't hurt you.  I want to give you the pleasure you gave me last night.  Trust me."

She moved her hands from his hair, down his strong neck.  "I do."

His smile bathed her in safety, comfort, and promises.

He combed over the silky hair protecting the heart of her womanhood.  Then he touched her layered softness reverently with exquisite tenderness.  Tears came to her eyes and she blinked them away.  The preciousness of Clay's touch melted her body and her heart.  He explored farther into her heat and she moaned.  Nothing in her entire life had ever prepared her for this.

She'd been alone for so long.  It seemed she'd been lonely forever.  She knew her parents loved her, but she'd been away from them so much.  The friends she'd made at boarding school had temporarily pushed the loneliness away.  Eventually, she'd poured all her passion, her heart, her soul into her patients and the science of healing.  Work kept the loneliness sealed tightly in a corner of its own.  But in Langley, loneliness had tapped her on the shoulder, reminding her it was still there.  The child she couldn't save in Africa had unsealed the box.

When Paige was with Clay, the loneliness dissolved.  She felt connected to someone for the first time in her life.

Clay removed his hands from her, and she twisted to try to find them again.

"Easy, Paige.  Easy."  He stroked her inner thighs so lightly she thought she imagined it until her legs quivered, and she shook all over.  She opened her eyes to get Clay's reassurance.

He kept petting her, caressing her, watching her.  He was looking at her as if she was something beautiful, something to cherish.  When he lowered his head, she closed her eyes.

The erotic satin of his tongue made her gasp and clutch the sheets.  He touched, probed, teased until she rolled her head from one side to the other, saying his name over and over.  He penetrated, withdrew, surrounded until an indescribable radiance focused at that one point.  Swirl after swirl of pleasure tormented her until he finally enclosed the bud of her desire, bathed it in his tenderness, and Paige cried out.

She moaned as ecstasy swept her in a circle again and again, each spin around reaching deeper inside of her, ravaging her with pleasure, searing every part of her body.

And then finally she had Clay in her arms where she wanted him, where she needed him to be.  He was inside her and she was complete.

She tried to speak but couldn't say anything that could nearly express the engulfing love, the fulfillment that Clay gave her.  She moved her hips to take him deeper, and when she did, the pleasure overtook her again.  She clung to him, giving in to elemental needs and fires that raged out of control.

****

The picnic had been Paige's idea.  But instead of going to the lake, Clay had suggested they take their lunch to the clearing in the woods behind Doc's house.  While Clay had scavenged in the refrigerator, Paige had showered and changed into turquoise shorts and matching top.  It clung to her soft curves, making Clay long to strip it off.  But for now he just wanted to enjoy being with her.

Clay spread out their blanket on a patch of ground under a tall maple.  He pulled out the turkey sandwiches he'd thrown together.  "Hungry?"

Paige opened a bag of pretzels.  "Starved."  She smiled shyly.  "I think we missed breakfast."

He laughed.  "That depends on what kind of breakfast you wanted."

She blushed and he reached for her hand.  Every time he looked at her now, every time she smiled or touched him, he thought about making love with her.  He was sinking in, deeper and deeper, and he was letting it happen.  What would he do if she left?

He did know, of course.  He'd go on.  Just as he had before.  But this time the remembered loss would be far greater than any he had forgotten.  He knew he should bring up the future.  But he couldn't.  Not today.

Glancing around, he released her hand and pushed himself to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

He tossed over his shoulder, "Be right back."

He went to the side of the sunny clearing and plucked flowers from the scattered beds.  Black-eyed Susans, daylilies, bluets.  It was a small variegated bouquet.  Suddenly it didn't seem nearly enough.  He should be ordering two dozen long- stemmed roses for her to show her exactly how special she was.  Maybe he should just put these aside.

But she was watching him, and he wanted to give her something.  He took the flowers to her and laid them in her lap.

"They're lovely, Clay."  She reverently touched a vibrant orange daylily.

He settled beside her.  "I'd like to buy you a whole room of flowers.  Last night meant a lot to me, Paige."

She brought the dainty bluet, a tiny four-petaled flower, to her nose and smelled it.  "These mean more than anything you could buy."

He could see she meant it, and his heart opened to her even more.  "You haven't asked me any questions."

She lay the flower back in her lap.  "You'll tell me what you want me to know."

"I've told you a little bit of everything."

"Tell me about your dad," she requested softly, crossing her legs Indian fashion, cradling his flowers in her lap.

Paige's intuition shouldn't surprise him.  She was a perceptive lady.  Clay leaned back against the tree trunk.  "If Mom and Trish had trouble accepting what happened to me, they worked through it.  Mom made sure Trish talked to her and they both saw a counselor for a while.  What they were teaching me, the hours they spent with me would have been hard enough for professionals."

"They love you."

"I know.  And I'll never be able to repay them for all they did.  But my dad's an entirely different story."

"He didn't accept your amnesia as permanent?"

Clay realized she'd listened to everything he'd told Ben and filled in the gaps.  "That was part of it.  He couldn't believe the memories wouldn't return.  He thought I wasn't trying hard enough.  After a second doctor at a head injury center confirmed the fact, Dad still wouldn't believe it.  He wanted me to try hypnosis.  And I did.  But when something's wiped out, it's wiped out.  I had this big blank bank and all I wanted to do was get on with filling it up."

"He couldn't let go of the past."

Clay drew one leg up and looked into the woods, wondering when thinking about his father would stop hurting.  "Dad wanted back the son he knew.  He wouldn't go to counseling with Mom and Trish.  He didn't help in the reteaching process.  And although no one would admit it, I could tell that he and Mom were pulling further apart.  That's another reason I left Reisterstown.  I figured with me gone, their lives could get back to normal."

"Have they?"

"I think so.  That's the one thing Trish and I have never talked about.  But Mom and Dad are still together."

"You felt responsible for all of it, didn't you?"

Clay's gaze met Paige's.  "I was responsible."

"The accident was responsible."

Her blue eyes, her intent expression told him that was so, but he grimaced.  "It doesn't seem that simple when you're in the middle of it."

She nodded.  "I know."

Paige was in the middle of a complicated situation now.  The deeper they felt about each other, the more complicated it would get.  Clay didn't want to waste any time they did have together.  "I'd like you to meet Trish."

"I'd like that, too."

"Mom and Dad are giving her and her fiance an engagement party.  Would you like to go with me?"

"I'd like that very much."

He grinned.  "You know what I'd like?"

"What?"

He took the wild flowers from her lap.  Then he picked up one small viola and brushed it across her cheek.  "I'd like to kiss you until nothing matters but the touch of our lips, the tangling of our tongues, me inside you."

She smiled, a soft sweet smile that wrenched his insides.  "That would make me even happier than your gift of wild flowers."

He lay her down on the blanket and as the summer sun dappled them with warmth, as the scent of green grass and trees and wild flowers wound about them, Clay kissed her and nothing else did matter.