Queen (24 page)

Queen sighed in Cody's arms, trying to think of a way to respond to his words as he swept her off her feet and carried her into his bedroom.

"Oh, I saw the signs. But I couldn't bring myself to believe them. And it's not that I don't want you. A woman would be a fool not to love you, Cody Bonner."

She tilted her chin, aware that she was leaving herself open to all kinds of rejection just by the admission. "It's that I never expected anything to come of it."

"Why the hell not? I've done everything but take out an ad in the paper about how I feel about you," Cody said.

"Because of who I am… and who you are. You only know me now, the woman who was on her way to somewhere else. You don't know the gambler's daughter from Cradle Creek , Tennessee. You don't understand what a gap there is between your world and mine. Where I lived…" She trailed off, her lips tightening at the old, ugly memories. "You don't know how I lived… what we had to do to survive. You fly high-tech planes with computer systems I could never understand. I cleaned house for the owner of the coal mine back home."

"You think that changes how I feel about you? You've got a bullshit opinion of me, and men in general, don't you, lady?"

Her face crumpled. Cody should have known, the moment he'd gotten angry, that it had been the wrong thing to do.

"Oh, hell," he said, raking his fingers through his hair. "Don't cry. For God's sake, don't cry. If you aren't ready, I'm not insisting. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you. I never was any good at saying the right thing to a woman."

It was the fear on his face that made the difference. If he loved her enough to back off, then she had to be brave enough to take that first step and do something she'd sworn never to do… trust a man.

"You already said the right thing, Cody. You said you loved me."

"Then what is it, honey?" he asked, wanting to touch her but afraid to move. "I'll do anything to make you happy. If this feels wrong… if you're not ready for this… then please, don't turn away from me. Just tell me. As much as I want you, I'd rather stop right now than take the chance of losing you."

She started to cry.

"Jesus!" Cody said. He started forward but was stopped by the look on her face. "Baby… don't." He held up his hands and started backing out of the room. "Look! I'm leaving. No pressure. No problem."

"So help me, God," Queen whispered, "if you walk out on me now, Cody Bonner, I'll never forgive you."

He stopped in midstride, stunned by the impact of her words. He'd imagined it was fear that had made her not joy.

"Hell, lady," he growled, starting toward her, "you scared me half to death. I thought you hated my guts."

"Only once," she whispered, taking his hands and guiding them beneath her sweater, "right after you dragged me through the oil and out from under your old red truck."

He grinned at her audacity and then inhaled slowly and in wonder at the intoxicating, satiny texture of her breasts and the life racing just beneath the surface of her skin. His fingers splayed across her, cupping, caressing, and he felt himself getting hard in response.

Queen moaned, her knees weakening as the wanting of Cody Bonner came upon her. She slid her fingers along the waistband of his jeans and started a search of her own, smiling at his swift intake of breath and the belly that tightened beneath her touch.

Cody couldn't believe what was happening. Moments ago he'd been afraid of losing her, and now he was afraid he wouldn't get her soon enough to satisfy her hunger. He shuddered as he realized he wasn't the only one who knew how to play with matches.

In one smooth motion he lifted her sweater up and off, leaving her bare except for the plain cotton bra restraining her curvaceous body. When he would have removed it, too, she stopped him with a shake of her head, raking his chest lightly with her fingernail, tapping at the buttons on his shirt in a gentle reminder that she wasn't in this alone.

Cody got the message. Queen was calling the shots, and it was fine with him. In seconds his shirt was off and his boots went flying. He waited, a questioning look on his face, as if asking her what came next.

She smiled and unfastened her bra, letting herself fall free and reveling in the flush that swept across his cheeks as he looked his fill.

He swallowed, groaning at the restraint it took not to touch her, and began unsnapping his jeans, delighting in the way her eyes opened wide and then slid nearly shut, heavy with passion. His body throbbed, reminding him that when he came out of the jeans there'd be no way of denying how badly he needed her. His hands dropped to his sides, and he took some slow, calming breaths, waiting for the next passage in the sexual symphony to begin.

He'd understood. Queen smiled, her green cat eyes widening in appreciation, her body humming beneath her skin. She looked at the sculptured perfection of his shoulders and belly and at the spiral of dark hair on his chest that disappeared beneath the wide white elastic on his briefs. She sat down on the edge of the bed, lifting a leg and waving a sock-covered foot in his direction.

"I need help," she said softly.

"I think I'm the one who's going to need help," he said with a grin. Then he stepped forward, straddling her legs and gently pushing her backward onto his bed.

His hand encompassed her foot, stroking and then lifting it gently as one sock came off with a yank and then the other followed. He crawled onto the bed, pulling gently at the buttons on the front of her jeans. One gave way… then another… and another.

Her eyes widened and her breath shortened as she watched him coming toward her, but there was no time to think as he stretched out beside her and covered her lips with his own. She reached up, her arms tightening around his neck and back, holding on to what was being offered, sighing with pleasure as her fingers found firm muscles.

His mouth took everything from her including sanity grazing lightly across the curve of her lower lip, taking it into his own and sucking gently before moving across it his own completely and staking claim.

His tongue ventured forward, tracing the edge of her teeth, then the roof of her mouth, then rocking in and nut in an indecent proposal she could not refuse. Aching in places she couldn't reach, Queen guided his hand instead, begging him without words to make it better.

Following her lead, his fingers moved across the flat plane of her belly and then slid beneath the elastic on
her underwear to the pleasure beyond. His own needs increased to the point of pain as she sighed and arched, moving toward his touch, begging him in ways as old as time to release the tiger that he'd teased.

His fingers swept across the soft petals of her flesh and slid into the folds, then stopped, aware that things were moving too fast. He shuddered in response to her moans of pleasure and then moved his attention back up her body in a desperate attempt to regain control.

Her breast felt lush beneath his hand, and when he covered the soft brown areola with his lips, then rolled the nipple between his teeth, the tiny pain made her cry aloud.

"More… no more," she whispered, unaware that she'd asked for two different things.

He raised his head. She stared up into a blaze of blue and got lost on the way back. His lips were moving, saying things on which she could not focus, promising things for which she dared not hope.

Instinct prompted her to hold on to what was hers. She reached up and cradled his head between her hands, urging him to fulfill the promises he was making. His hair was black and soft beneath her fingers as she gripped thick handfuls of midnight in the full light of day.

The ache between her legs was worse, the heat higher. She felt herself melting and knew from the look on his face that it had only just begun.

"Lady… my lady," he whispered, and loved her with a look that made her hunger for more.

Queen moved, and then her hands slid between their bodies, her fingers tugging at the soft white band of his briefs.

"Oh, God… baby wait! Let me…"

He rolled away enough to allow her access to free him and then a heartbeat later wondered if he'd gone mad by doing so when she took him in her hands.

"No… let me," she whispered, and encompassed the hard thrust of his manhood, sliding satin over steel in one smooth motion.

"Queen!" The cry came from his heart. He closed his hands over hers and guided her actions until he lost track of everything but the feel of her hands upon his body. Shuddering, he shut his eyes against the urge to give himself up. But he'd dreamed of this too long to let it happen this fast.

She stroked him to the point of combustion. Cody was going blind and didn't care. In a matter of seconds it would be over unless he regained control.

"No, you don't, lady. It's not going to end like this." He groaned and rolled away from her touch.

Lost in the pleasure that loving him was giving her, Queen didn't expect his retreat. Before she knew it, she was devoid of the rest of her clothing and lay bare to his gaze, awaiting his pleasure… and hers.

Cody fumbled in the bedside drawer, slid fully out of his clothes and into protection, then rolled back on top of her before she had time to get cold.

Queen inhaled, closed her eyes, and let her hands roam at will across the body of the man who had staked his claim. His weight pressed her down onto the mattress as the hard thrust of his sex pressed against her legs. She moved, wanting him closer, needing the empty place in her body as well as her heart to be filled.

Cody relished the feel of her beneath him, aware that for the moment he had total mastery over her body, and then knew when she opened her eyes and looked up at him through a green veil of tears that he was the one who was bound. Bound by love and the goodwill of a Queen.

"No more waiting," he whispered, and slid a knee between her legs, opening the way for him to come in.

She sighed. He was right. It was time.

He paused, stared down into the eyes of love, and then moved with a smooth, powerful thrust, sliding through as swiftly and surely as if it had happened a thousand times before.

She arched beneath him in reflex and shuddered at the feel of so much man within her.

"Cody?"

It was a question as well as a plea.

"I'm here, baby," he whispered, and braced himself above her, unwilling to burden her any longer with his weight. "I won't let you down… and I won't let you go. I swear."

With that he began to move, slowly at first to allow her body time to accept him. He swallowed a groan at the hot, tight fit and knew that few, if any, had gone before him. But the clutch of her hands on his arms, and then across his back, urged him forward… deeper… faster.

Pleasure came first. The knowledge of being loved, the feeling of a need being fulfilled. And then pleasure gave way to compulsion as their bodies began moving on instinct, no longer able to control the inevitable.

Her blood felt thick, pushing itself through her veins in a constant but building pressure as he moved within her. And then in a sudden and blinding flash of need, it no longer became possible to think of what was coming because it was here. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around him, a subconscious effort to stay on firm ground when she knew she was about to fly.

"Let it happen," Cody begged. "You won't be alone… I'm with you all the way."

It was all she needed to hear. The last vestige of her restraint shattered along with her sanity as the flashfire of pleasure exploded.

And just as he'd promised, Cody groaned and then, with a single last thrust, spilled himself inside her and collapsed across her body, shuddering from exhaustion.

As she lay beneath him, he felt her body tremoring in the dying throes of spent love. He raised up on his elbows and stared intently, yearning to see past the body to the soul inside.

Her hair was an auburn fan of thick, damp curls that spread across his arms as well as the pillow beneath her head. Her eyes were wide with dissipating shock, as if she still couldn't quite comprehend the magnitude of their joining. And her body still held him, unwilling to lose what had given so much pleasure. But it was the look in her eyes, and the tears that ran freely, that moved him beyond words.

He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching, cradled her face within his hands, and pressed constant but fleeting kisses across her cheeks, her eyelids, and her mouth, telling her in the only way he had left that she meant everything to him… that she was everything to him.

Peace had come to Queen suddenly, without searching, without warning, in the guise of love, at the hands of Cody Bonner. She sighed. It had taken so long, and she'd come so far. But if she'd known it would be this easy, she might have gotten here sooner.

"I'll be right back," he said, and rolled away, headed into his bathroom. Moments later he crawled back into bed with her.

"Cody…"

"No pressure, remember," he whispered, and slid an arm beneath her neck and pulled her against him. "Rest. There'll be plenty of time to talk later. Right now I just want to feel the love."

Feel the love. What a simple yet overwhelming way of expressing what had come and gone between them. Queen smiled, dug a place for herself in the bed beside him, and let the feeling roll over her, too. Just before she dozed off she remembered thinking that he'd been right. The love was there, if you knew where to look.

She'd been awake forever, just watching him sleep as he lay flat on his stomach, one arm sprawled out across her upper body, the other tucked beneath his pillow. She leaned on an elbow, brushed away a wing of black hair from his forehead, and kissed a small scar on his shoulder while marveling at the strength and length of him. She smiled to herself, remembering that her first impression of him had been of his boots, abandoned on the bottom of the stairs.

I was right. It took a big man to fill them.

She looked at his legs, so strong and lean, and thought of a time when he'd been hurt and broken. She could have wept at the idea of him in pain. Then she remembered how fast he had traveled through the snow to come after her, to rescue her from Virgil Stratton, and of how he'd never stopped or given up his pursuit even though he must have been exhausted.