Star Bright (43 page)

Rainie felt tears burning in her own eyes and smiled tremulously. “Maybe so, but you showed me the way. And I’m okay now. You can stop worrying about me. I really am okay now.”

He studied her for a long moment and then returned her smile. “I think you actually are.”

She lowered her gaze to his sandwich and soup. “So, eat. I’m anxious to give you dessert.”

“You’ve got dessert?”

She nodded.

“What, chocolate cake?”

She shook her head. “Something much better than that.”

“What then?” he asked.

“Me.”

He paused with the sandwich halfway to his mouth, his gaze sharpening on hers. “You?”

She grinned and lifted her eyebrows at him. “Nothing else, only me.”

He laid the sandwich back on the plate, and then relaxed on the chair and crossed his arms. “In that case, I’d rather have dessert now and eat later.”

“Are you sure you’re recovered enough?”

His lean cheek creased in a grin. That was all the answer she needed.

For Rainie, their second time together was even better than the first. He began by scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bedroom, which was the most romantic thing she’d ever experienced. She looped her arms around his neck, acutely conscious of the hard strength in his shoulders and the play of muscle under his shirt. Once through the doorway, he strode to the bed, tossed her onto the mattress, and then turned to reach above the door frame for the bedroom receiver.

“I already moved it,” she whispered throatily. “I thought we’d make love in here the first time, so I put it in the guest room.”

He closed the door for additional privacy and then followed her down onto the bed, catching his weight on his bent arms and knees, his body forming a canopy of blue chambray and denim above her. His dark face hovering only inches from hers, his eyes glittering with desire, he didn’t waste time on words but bent his head to kiss her. Eyes locked with his, she pressed a hand to his jaw, marveling at the contrast of his smooth skin and the slight rasp of his five-o’clock shadow. Then she touched his hair, fascinated by how the thick, silky strands felt cool as they slipped through her fingers.

As lightly as a butterfly wing, he brushed his lips over hers. His breath smelled of coffee, mint, and faintly of cheese, one of her favorite sinful pleasures.
Parker.
The taste of him was as intoxicating to her as mulled wine. She parted her lips, yearning for him to deepen the kiss, but he kept the contact whisper-soft, teasing her, making her heart catch and her body quicken. Her eyes drifted halfway closed, so she saw his chiseled countenance through the veil of her lashes, a blur of bronze capped by jet-black hair. Her heart began to slog in her chest, the hard, vibrant beats thrumming through her veins to make her secret, most feminine places throb with every surge of her blood.

Wanting him, wanting
more
, she made tight fists in his hair, seeking to deepen the kiss herself. He braced against her. “Oh, no, not this time,” he informed her in a husky whisper. “I want to take it slow and savor every sweet inch of you.”

He turned his head and nibbled seductively at her bottom lip, nipping gently at the soft, sensitive inner tissue and then soothing it with a rub of his tongue. Her breathing became fast and uneven. Her lungs grabbed frantically for more oxygen. She ran her hands over his shoulders, testing the thick, virile pads of muscle over bone. The power she felt under the cloth made her pulse stutter and skip a beat.

“Ah, Rainie mine, you are so sweet, so impossibly, incredibly sweet.” As though trying to commit her face to memory, he began tracing each line and plane with feathery brushes of his lips: the slope of her forehead, the arch of her brows, the tip of her nose, the hollow of her cheek, the shape of her chin. With every touch, her skin felt more tingly and sensitive. When he moved lower to torment the tender place just under her ear, she made fists in his shirt, her body motionless, her lungs barely inflating, anticipation mounting within her until she wanted to scream.

Her shirt had fallen open, baring her breasts, and his every slight movement abraded her nipples. She longed to feel the warm, moist draw of his mouth there again. Her bones felt as if they were melting when he finally trailed his lips to the V of her collarbone, where he followed its shape with the tip of his tongue and pressed his parted lips over the pulse beat there as if he wanted to absorb the very essence of her. Next he treated her arms to a similar torture, kissing his way down to the bend of her elbow and lingering there to tickle her skin with light, almost nonexistent flicks of his tongue.

Her limbs became heavy. The erratic beat of her heart thrummed in her temples, and she floated in a mindless, resonant haze of desire, helpless to move, spellbound by the feelings he evoked within her.

“Parker,
please
.”

He pressed his hot mouth to that place under her ear again, and then he drove her closer to the edge by trailing his tongue down her neck. She jerked and cried out when he finally gave her what she wanted and closed his mouth over one of her nipples. She arched up, her hands anchored to his shoulders. Spurts of pleasure zinged to the very center of her, turning the ache low in her belly into hot, molten need.

After abandoning her breasts, he lapped at her quivering belly like a kitten licking cream. Lower, then lower still, he cut a torturously slow path to the apex of her thighs. In some far corner of her mind, Rainie was shocked when she felt his mouth close over her moist flesh, but he obliterated every thought in her head with one light flick of his tongue. Spiraling. She felt like a bit of dandelion fluff caught in a whirlwind.
Parker.
He drew her into the spinning vortex, playing her body as if it were a stringed instrument, each masterful stroke of his tongue taking her higher and higher, closer and closer to the final crescendo. At the peak, she spun into oblivion, lost to sensation and glorious release.

Afterward, while her body still quivered and jerked from the throes of orgasm, he rose over her to strip off his shirt. In the dim illumination coming from the living room, his dark torso was limned in gold, the dips and hollows of his muscular chest delineated by shadow and shimmers of light. In all Rainie’s life, she’d never seen anyone so beautiful. She watched as he swung off the bed to kick off his boots and shed his jeans. The coppery darkness of his upper body extended to his legs, not a result of exposure to the sun, but his natural skin tone, the deep, rich color of caramel.

“Lose the shirt,” he whispered.

With any other man on earth, Rainie might have felt self-conscious, but she didn’t with Parker. She sat up and peeled the sleeves down her arms. Then she lay back, naked in the shadows, her skin burning as his gaze moved over her.

“Damn, you are so beautiful,” he said huskily.

“You’re the one who’s beautiful.”

When he returned to her, he knelt between her thighs, the head of his shaft pushing at her opening. As he came into her, Rainie gasped at the feeling of fullness and heat. Then he plunged deep, setting off explosions of sensation deep inside of her. As he withdrew slightly, she looped her legs around his waist and lifted her hips to meet his next thrust. In all her life, she’d never felt anything so glorious. With every push, he took her with him, higher and higher, faster and faster, until they peaked together in an explosion of pleasure.

Afterward Rainie lay limp in his arms, so content and exhausted that she had no desire to move or even speak. Over the course of their relationship, Parker had introduced her to so many new sights—gorgeous sunsets, fabulous wood-lands, undulating fields of pink clover, skies as blue as deep lagoons.

Now he’d given her the most wondrous experience of all—a taste of heaven on earth.

In a tangle of arms and legs, they dozed together as only lovers do, breathing in tandem, hearts beating as one. When Rainie awakened some time later, she couldn’t quite tell where Parker’s body started and hers ended. The tips of their noses were touching, which made her smile. Even in slumber, they’d sought the comfort of closeness.

As if he sensed her gaze on him, he fluttered his lashes open and grinned sleepily at her. “I was havin’ the nicest dream,” he whispered.

“What about?”

“We were cloud watchin’ again, only in my dream I got to make love to you like I wanted to the first time.”

She smiled drowsily. “Did you really? Want to make love to me, I mean?”

He chuckled and rubbed his nose against hers. “Of course.” He tucked in his chin to focus on her face. “My dream didn’t go well, though. Right in the middle of lovin’ you, a horrible thought occurred to me.”

“What was that?”

“That I wasn’t wearin’ any protection and needed to stop.”

His gaze held hers with relentless solemnity, his expression devoid of humor. Rainie released a soft breath as her second oversight of the evening registered in her mind. “Oops.”

“Yeah, a big oops. I can’t believe I did somethin’ so stupid. I
always
wear protection.” He winced. “Not that I’ve needed to all that often. I don’t want you to think I’ve bounced in and out of intimate relationships like a tennis ball. But on occasion, when I needed to scratch my itch, I always practiced safe sex. Now, with the one woman I love more than anything else on earth, I forgot all about it and put you at risk of pregnancy.”

Rainie pushed up onto an elbow. His regret sounded in his voice, tugging at her heart. “It was my responsibility to think of it. I set out to seduce you, not the other way around. You didn’t come here expecting to have sex with me.”

“Nope,” he agreed. “If I had, I would have stopped by a drugstore for some condoms.” He sighed and reached up to toy with her hair. “Ah, Rainie mine, what if you’re pregnant?”

Still facing him, Rainie snuggled back down and considered the possibility. “I’d love to have your baby, Parker. Call me crazy, but I won’t gnash my teeth and pull out my hair if the test strip reads positive.”

“There is one problem. Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but when the woman I love gives birth to my baby, I want her to be married to
me
, not contractually bound to some other man. Your divorce still isn’t final.”

Rainie caught the inside of her cheek in her teeth. One of the things she loved most about Parker was his old-fashioned values. “Even if I am pregnant, the divorce will be final long before the baby’s born. Can’t we just get married really fast?”

“I’m Catholic. Nothin’ about marriage in the Church happens fast.” His black brows snapped together in a scowl. “I guess I’m gettin’ ahead of myself. You haven’t even said you’ll marry me straight out, let alone marry me in the Church.”

Rainie finger-combed his glistening black hair, loving the way it fell away from her fingers in glossy black waves over his forehead. “Of course I’ll marry you, Parker. I love you. And it goes without saying that I’ll marry you in your church. Your faith is important to you. Therefore it’s important to me.”

“Will it bother you to raise our kids Catholic?”

Rainie considered the question for a moment. Her first thought was that she knew very little about Roman Catholic doctrine. But then she focused on Parker and realized that wasn’t true. He was a result of his upbringing, and his faith had played a huge role in making him into the man he was. She didn’t really care what faith her kids were encouraged to embrace, just as long as they grew up with a strong spiritual framework, an unshakable belief in God, and good moral values. She felt confident that Parker would raise children in an environment that would foster all three traits.

“If our children grow up to be half as wonderful as you, I don’t care what church we raise them in.”

He chuckled. “What church did you grow up in? I never thought to ask.”

“All the Christian denominations we could find. Daddy was eclectic in his religious affiliations.” Rainie smiled at the memories. “He was an intellectual, remember, and he wanted to be a well-informed Christian who never allowed himself or me to become closed-minded. To that end, he had a rule that we could worship at a church for only six months before we moved on. He wanted to hear all the different interpretations of Scripture.”

“That must have been interestin’.”

Rainie grinned. “Yes, well, sometimes we moved on after only a week, and sometimes we stayed in a faith community a little longer than six months. It all depended on the spiritual tone of the church. I remember one time when the preacher started pounding the pulpit, renouncing all women who wore red as jezebels and handmaidens of Satan. I was wearing a red jumper. Daddy left that church in less than fifteen minutes, and we never went back.”

“I’m glad. I like red.”

Rainie tugged lightly on a tuft of his chest hair. “Really? I like it, too, especially lacy red underwear.”

He dipped his head to nibble on her ear. “You
are
a jezebel.”

She turned her face to meet his mouth with hers. “Right now, all I can tempt you with is me. When I went shopping for a new wardrobe, looking sexy wasn’t one of my priorities.”

“You’d look sexy in a gunnysack.”

She felt his hardness against her thigh. “No protection, remember? If Peter finds another way to stall the divorce, I could end up at the altar eight months pregnant.”