September Morning (11 page)

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Authors: Diana Palmer

BOOK: September Morning
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“It's not going to be like last time,” he breathed. “Kate…!” Her soft mouth parted eagerly as his lips met hers.

Her slender arms reached up around his neck, holding him, and she kissed him back feverishly, trying to show that she could be anything he wanted her to be.

His big hand tangled in the thick strands of hair at her nape, and his devouring mouth forced hers open even wider. He explored it with a deepening intimacy that made her tremble. With a sense of wonder she felt his hands at her back, sliding under the sweater and up to move caressingly against her silken skin.

“No bra?” he murmured against her mouth, and she could feel the amused smile that moved his lips.

She flushed at the intimacy of the question, and suddenly reached around to catch his wrists and hold them as he started to slide his exploring hands around under her arms.

“Blake…” she protested.

He chuckled softly and drew his hands away, to replace them at her waist over the thick fabric. “You said you weren't afraid,” he reminded her.

She lowered her eyes to his broad chest. “Must you make fun of me?” she asked miserably. “You know I'm not sophisticated.”

“It's quite obvious,” he laughed softly. “If you were, you would know better than to plaster yourself against a man when he kisses you. Ten years ago, I'm not sure I'd have been able to draw back.”

She looked up, startled. “But in the movies…”

“Plastic people, contrived situations; this is real, Kathryn.” He took her hand and pressed it inside the opening of his shirt, against the hard, warm flesh and thick mat of hair. She felt the heavy rhythm of his heart. “Do you feel it?” he asked softly. “You make my blood run like a river in flood, Kate.”

She was lost in his dark eyes, in the gentleness of his deep voice. Her fingers lingered inside his shirt, liking the feel of his muscular body, remembering suddenly and vividly the way he looked that night long ago with Jessica.

He seemed to read the thoughts in her mind. Abruptly he caught her hands and slid them under the shirt to lie against the broad, hard chest. Her fingers trembled on the hair-rough skin.

“I've never touched…anyone like this,” she whispered, awed by the new longings surging through her body, making her tremble in his big arms. “I never wanted to, until now.”

His lips brushed against her forehead, his breath warm and a little unsteady, while her curious fingers explored the powerful muscles.

She raised her eyes to Blake's. “I…Blake, I feel…”

His fingers pressed gently against her lips. “Kiss me,” he whispered. “Don't think, don't talk. Just kiss me.” His lips teased hers delicately, softly, causing a surge of hunger that dragged a moan from her tight throat.

She went on tiptoe to help him, to tempt him, her lips parting under the lazy pressure of his mouth as he began to deepen the kiss. She felt his hands caressing her back, moving surely around to her ribcage. But, this time, she didn't catch his wrists.

His thumbs edged out to trace the gentle slope of her high, firm breasts and she stiffened instinctively at the unfamiliar touch.

“It's all right,” he whispered at her lips. “Don't pull away from me.”

Her eyes opened, wide and curious and a little frightened. “It's…new,” she whispered.

“Being touched?” he asked quietly. “Or being touched by me?”

“Both,” she admitted.

His fingers moved higher, and he watched her face while they found the hard peaks and traced them tenderly, just before his hands swallowed the velvet softness and pressed against it with warm, sensuous motions.

“How does it feel, Kate?” he asked in a deep, honeyed tone. “Is it good?”

Her nails dug into his chest involuntarily as the magic worked on her, and she moaned softly.

“I shouldn't…let you,” she whispered.

“No, you shouldn't,” he agreed, moving closer. “Tell me to stop, Kate,” he whispered. “Tell me you hate it.”

“I…wish I could,” she whispered. His mouth was on her closed eyelids, her nose, her high cheekbones, while his hands made wild shivers of sensation wash over her bare skin.

His mouth bit at hers tenderly in a succession of teasing kisses that made her want to cry out. “God, you're sweet,” he whispered huskily. “As soft as a whisper where I touch you.”

Her fingers tangled in the mat of hair over his strong chest. “I…dreamed about how it would be with you,” she whispered shakily. “Ever since that night I saw you with Jessica, I've wondered…”

“I know,” he whispered back, “I saw it in your eyes. That was what wrung me out so, Kate, because I wondered, too. But you were so damned young…”

She drew a deep, unsteady breath, lifting her body higher against his deft, sure hands. “Blake…?” she moaned.

“What do you want?” His dark eyes burned into hers. “There's nothing you can't ask me, don't you know that? What do you want, Kate?”

Her body ached with the newness of wanting and she didn't know how to put into words what she needed. It had never been like this, never!

“I don't know how to say it,” she admitted in a breathless whisper. “Blake…please…”

He bent, lifting her in his big arms without a word, and carried her to the cushioned seat that ringed the gazebo. Then he came down beside her with something in his hard, dark face that was faintly shocking after all the years of banter and camaraderie and deep affection. She was just beginning to see Blake as a lover, and the effect it was having on her defied description. She looked up at him with all her confusion in her green eyes, and in her flushed, expectant face.

“I won't hurt you,” he said softly.

“I know.” She lifted her fingers to his hard, chiseled mouth and traced it gently. “I've never kissed a man lying down.”

“Haven't you?” He smiled as he lifted himself to ease his formidable torso down onto her, so that they were thigh to thigh, hip to hip, breast to breast. She gasped at the intimate contact and her fingers dug into the rippling muscles of his shoulders.

His fingers cupped her face as he bent. “Am I too heavy, Kate?” he whispered against her soft mouth.

She flushed at the question, but she didn't look away. “No,” she managed shakily.

He brushed his mouth across hers. “Pull your sweater up,” he whispered.

“Blake…”

He kissed her closed eyelids. “You want it as much as I do,” he breathed. “Pull it up, Kate…then help me pull up my shirt.”

She looked into his eyes, trembling. She wanted him until she ached from head to toe, but he was suggesting an intimacy she'd never experienced before, and once it happened, there wouldn't be any going back.

“It's…I mean, I've never…” she stammered.

His thumbs brushed against the corners of her mouth while his tongue lightly traced the trembling line of her lips.

“Don't you want to feel me against you like that, Kate?” he whispered sensuously. “With nothing between us?”

She gasped against his invading mouth. Her eyes closed tightly. “Yes,” she ground out, and even her voice trembled. “Oh, Blake, yes, yes…!”

“Help me,” he whispered huskily.

With trembling fingers, she lifted the hem of his yellow knit shirt and eased it up over the warm, hard muscles under their mat of crisp black hair, and her fingers savored the sensuous contact with him, while her heart pounded out a mad rhythm.

His mouth coaxed hers open, tasting it, gentling it, his fingers tenderly caressing her face.

“Now yours, love,” he whispered softly. “There's nothing to be afraid of, nothing at all, I won't hurt you, I won't force you. Now, Kate…”

She looked into his darkening eyes while she slid the soft sweater up over her taut breasts and with a shuddering pleasure, she felt him ease down again until her taut nipples vanished into the dark pelt over his chest. She felt his body against hers in a contact that made magic in her mind and she gasped.

“My God, isn't it delicious?” he whispered tautly, shifting his powerful torso slowly, sensuously, across her breasts in the utter silence of the gazebo.

Her fingers hesitated on his hard collarbone, lightly touching him, feeling him. Her eyes widened as the intimacy sent her pulse racing, as her breath caught in her throat.

“You're…so warm,” she whispered.

“A man being burned alive does feel warm,” he replied half-humorously. He moved then, holding her eyes while his body eased completely onto hers.

“It's all right,” he breathed, calming her as she stiffened involuntarily at the greater intimacy with his body. His hands stroked her hair lightly, his forearms taking the bulk of his weight. He studied her closely. “Now I can feel you completely,” he whispered, “and you can feel me. We can't hide anything from each other when we touch like this, can we, Kate? You know without words how much I want you, don't you?”

She flushed wildly as the exact meaning of his words got through to her, and she noticed for the first time all the differences between his body and hers.

Pleasure surged up in her like spring sap in a young tree as she sensed her own awakening to emotions and sensations that had lain dormant inside her, waiting for a catalyst.

Her fingers touched his face, his mouth, his arrogant nose, his thick dark brows, and when she breathed, she was made even more aware of the warmth and weight of his hair-roughened chest against the sensitive warmth of her bareness.

The weight of him crushed her yielding body down into the soft cushions and her arms went up to hold him even closer as he bent to take her mouth under his.

She opened her lips, her fingers tangling in his thick, cool hair as the kiss went on and on. His tongue darted into her mouth, demanding, tormenting, while his hands slid under her thighs and lifted her body up against his with a bruising pressure, until she was achingly aware of how much he wanted her.

She shifted restlessly under the crush of his body, and a hard groan tore out of his throat while he kissed her. A shudder ran the length of him.

“Don't do that,” he whispered against her lips. “I may be past my first youth, but I can lose my head with you so easily it isn't even funny.”

She watched him, fascinated. “I…I like the way it feels, to lie with you like this,” she admitted in a whisper.

“My God, I like it, too,” he groaned. “Kiss me, honey…!”

His hungry ardor flared like wildfire between them. She stopped trying to understand and melted into him. It was glorious, the hungry crush of his mouth, the feel of his arms, the long, hard contact with his powerful body, the warmth of him that seemed to burn her everywhere they touched. She never wanted this kiss to end. She wanted to spend the rest of her life in his arms like this, holding him, loving him. Loving him!

He caught her wrists abruptly and tore her clinging hands away from his back. He looked down at her as if he'd been temporarily out of his mind and had only just realized what he was doing. He shook his dark head as if to clear it. With a violent movement he got to his feet and pulled his shirt down, keeping his back to Kathryn while she fumbled, embarrassed, with her sweater. She stared at his broad back incredulously. She'd forgotten what had happened just an hour ago, forgotten the anger and frustration she'd felt. In the shadow of Blake's blazing ardor she'd even forgotten Vivian. How could she have let him…!

He turned, catching that expression of shock in her eyes, and something seemed to harden his face, take the soft light out of his eyes. He smiled mockingly.

“Now tell me you miss Donavan,” he said in a voice that cut through her heart like a razor.

She licked at the inside of her swollen lips, tasting the lingering touch of his mouth there, her eyes vulnerable, hurt.

“Was that why?” she asked in a sore whisper getting to her feet.

He rammed his hands into his pockets. His face was harder than she could ever remember seeing it.

“Or was it…because you don't want another man to have me?” she asked painfully.

“I've got all the bodies I need, Kate,” he said tightly “I didn't raise you to take you into my bed the minute you came of age.”

“But, just now…” she began hesitantly.

“I want you, all right,” he admitted, scowling down at her. “I have for a long time. But just because I lost my head with you a minute ago, that doesn't mean I plan to do anything about it.”

Of course not, how could he, when he planned to marry Vivian? “Don't worry,” she said bitterly, stepping away from him. “I'm not going to ‘read anything’ into it this time either.”

“What?”

“That's what you told Vivian, isn't it?” she asked in a broken voice, slanting a glance back at him as she stepped down into the garden. “That you were afraid I might ‘read something’ into what happened the other night? I'm not a child, Blake, I quite realize that men can be attracted physically by women they don't even like, much less love.”

“Just what are you talking about?” he demanded, his eyes blazing.

“Vivian told me yesterday how much you regretted your actions the other night!” she threw at him.

The expression on his hard face puzzled her, if a fleeting shadow could be called that. “She told you that?” he asked.

She whirled. “No, I just made it up for the fun of it!”

“Kate…!”

“Don't call me Kate!” She glared back at him through her tears, missing the sudden glint in his dark eyes. “I hate you. And I'm going to get a job and my own apartment, and you can drag Vivian off into gazebos and make love to her! I don't ever want you to touch me again, Blake!”

“You will,” he said in a strange, deep tone.

She turned and ran back toward the house as if invisible phantoms were chasing after her. She locked her bedroom door behind her and threw herself down onto the bed, venting the stored-up tears. She loved Blake. Not as she always had, as a protector, but newly, differently, as a man. She could barely believe it had happened, and she didn't want to admit it even in the privacy of her own mind. She loved Blake. And he was going to marry Vivian. Her eyes closed in pain. Vivian, living here, loving Blake, too, touching him, kissing that hard, beautiful mouth…

She groaned out loud with anguish. She'd have to get a job. There was no way around it now. She sat up, drying her tears. She'd start looking first thing in the morning, Blake or no Blake, and find something that she could do to make a living for herself. There was no way she could go on living under the same roof with Blake and his wife!

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