Tell Me a Story (11 page)

"
H
ow come the water comes out hot?" Ann looked from Becky to the stream of water splashing into the tub and tried to organize her thoughts. It had been like that all afternoon. No matter how she scolded herself for letting one little kiss throw her off balance, she couldn't seem to get back to the real world.

Of course, calling it "one little kiss" was rather like calling King Kong a spider monkey. A little kiss didn't send shock waves to your toes. A little kiss didn't leave you tingling houis later. A little kiss—

"Ann?" She blinked and smiled at Becky.

"They heat the water in a big tank and pump it up to the faucet." As basic explanations went, it was about as basic as they came but she wasn't up to trying to explain the miracles of modern plumbing, even if she understood them, which she didn't. Becky seemed satisfied and she climbed into the tub without asking another question.

Becky was quite capable of taking a bath without a supervisor, but it had become a nightly ritual for Ann to sit in the bathroom with her. It was hard to say who enjoyed the ritual more. Ann tried not to think about what was going to happen when Becky's mother was finally found. She couldn't pretend anymore that life was going to go back to the way it had been before she'd opened her door to Flynn's towel-clad, panic-stricken presence.

She reached out to tuck a strand of Becky's hair out of the way of the washcloth. Becky smiled at her, revealing a gap where a tooth had come out two days ago. Ann smiled back, hoping the little girl wouldn't notice the shimmer of tears in her eyes. Flynn had been so nervous when Ann had checked the loose tooth and announced that it was time to pull it.

He'd let her do the honors, telling Becky that since Ann was a doctor, she'd know how to do it just right. When the moment finally came and the tooth was pulled, Ann thought Flynn might cry right along with Becky. But the tears lasted only a moment, more from fright than actual pain. Afterward, they'd made a ritual out of placing the tooth under Becky's pillow for the tooth fairy. Becky had explained that there wasn't really a tooth fairy, but the pragmatic words didn't quite match the excitement in her eyes.

Ann's smile widened as she reached for the washcloth to scrub Becky's back. It had taken her almost ten minutes to convince Flynn that a dollar was enough for a tooth. If she hadn't been there, he would probably have left the Ferrari under Becky's pillow.

"Are you and Mr. Flynn going to get married?" The washcloth slipped and Ann almost fell into the tub.

"What?"

"Are you and Mr. Flynn going to get married?" Becky wound the spring on a toy boat and set it sailing across the tub.

"What on earth would make you ask that?" Ann hoped the amusement in her voice sounded light and not hysterical.

"He was kissing you today."

"Becky, you know people don't get married just because they kiss each other."

"Why do they get married?"

"Well, they get married because they want a home and a family, something to come back to every night. Somebody who'll love them no matter what and be there when they're happy or when they're sad."

"Don't you want those things?"

Ann stared down at Becky, meeting the innocent question in those clear gray eyes. "I don't know. I guess I've never really given it much thought. I've had to work very hard at my job. I guess everybody wants those things but it's not easy to find them."

Becky rubbed soap over the washcloth, lathering it up until the cloth all but disappeared in bubbles. "Mama says that if you really want something, you've got to go out and get it. She says you can't sit around waitin' for stuff to come to you." She scrubbed the soapy cloth over her face. ,

Ann watched her. Out of the mouths of babes. Surely that statement had to have been designed for Becky.

❧

Half an hour later, Becky was dressed in a long cotton nightgown and tucked into bed. Ann dropped a kiss on her forehead, trying not to think of how much she'd grown to care for this small scrap of humanity.

"Tell me a story, Mr. Flynn." This, too, had become a nightly ritual. Ann moved quietly around the room putting away the day's accumulation of clothes and toys, while Flynn's voice spun a quiet story about elves and princesses and beautiful moths that flew them through fairyland.

The story was only half over when Flynn's voice stopped, and Ann turned to see that Becky had fallen asleep, her lashes making dark crescents against her flushed cheeks. Flynn eased himself off the bed and dropped a kiss on Becky's forehead. They tiptoed from the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

In the living room, the atmosphere was suddenly awkward. The early autumn temperature had dipped low enough that Flynn felt justified in lighting a fire, and it hissed quietly in the fireplace. One lamp burned next to the sofa, casting a pool of brilliance that seemed too intimate.

"Join me in a glass of wine?"

Ann glanced at him and then looked away. He was altogether too sexy. He'd washed the cotton candy out of his hair, and it now fell onto his forehead in a heavy black wave that made her fingers twitch with the urge to push it back. His jeans molded his thighs, just snug enough to tantalize anyone with the least imagination. His shirt was plain blue cotton, but the top two buttons were undone, allowing a glimpse of curling black hair.

It would be foolish to stay for a glass of wine, and one thing Ann had never been was foolish.

"That sounds nice."

Ten minutes later, the two of them were seated on the thick carpeting in front of the fireplace. Huge pillows bolstered their backs. It was a warm, intimate setting and part of Ann couldn't believe that she was here, courting disaster like this. But that was the practical Ann, who'd spent her life working toward certain goals.

There was another Ann, the Ann that was beginning to realize how much she'd given up to ambition. The Ann that wondered about all the things she'd told Becky that went into marriage. That was the Ann sitting here. Besides, where was the danger in sharing a simple glass of wine?

She stared into the fireplace, afraid to look at Flynn, afraid to look too closely at what she was doing. Afraid to stay and even more afraid to go.

Flynn's hand came out and took the wineglass from her fingers. Ann watched him set it on the hearth. The pale liquid picked up all the colors of the fire, bending them into new displays of light and color. Flynn's glass joined hers, the two of them sitting side by side. And still she sat there, her hands lying in her lap, her eyes on the two glasses.

She felt his hands in her hair, pulling out the pins one by one. She should say something. She couldn't just sit here and do nothing. She couldn't just let him... The last pin came out slowly, as if he were dragging out the anticipation. She closed her eyes as her hair tumbled onto her shoulders.

He didn't move, didn't speak until, at last, she could bear the tension no more. She opened her eyes, turning her head until she could see his face. She needed to know what he was thinking.

His eyes were on her hair, deep red waves that made the fire pale in comparison. The flames cast shadows over his features, making it difficult to read his expression.

"You are so beautiful." His voice was husky, soft. "I wanted to see you with your hair down the first moment I saw you. You looked so cool and disapproving but there was such fire in your hair." His fingers slid into the thick waves and Ann shut her eyes again. His thumb brushed her earlobe and she shivered. She felt him shifting closer. Her lips parted, anticipating, needing, wanting.

And then he was there.

His mouth claimed hers hungrily, with none of the tentative searching that had been in his other kisses. They both knew the time for questions was gone. There might be new questions tomorrow, but tonight there was only the two of them.

The spark that had been kindled earlier had lain waiting, needing only a touch to burst into life. Flynn's fingers slid deep into her hair, cupping the back of her head, tilting her mouth to his.

Ann moaned low in her throat as her lips opened, welcoming the invasion of his tongue. He tasted of wine. He tasted of madness. He tasted of all the things she denied herself for so many years. Things she'd only dreamed of. Her tongue came up to meet his, as hungry as he was. They tangled in erotic love play, testing, teasing, savoring.

She was barely aware of his hands shifting to "her shoulders, lowering her to the thick carpeting. His mouth left hers but only to taste the delicate skin along her jaw. The firelight created dancing red shadows against her closed eyes. Flynn's mouth slid down her throat, his tongue tasting the pulse that beat frantic cally at its base.

His fingers teased open the buttons on her blouse, spreading the thin cotton fabric out around her body. When he lifted himself away from her, Ann's eyes fluttered open. She should have felt self-conscious,

lying beneath him with only the fragile lace of her bra shielding her breasts from his gaze. But the look in his eyes was warm, melting away her inhibitions, her fears, leaving her feeling wanted, loved.

"You are so beautiful." He breathed the words out as if he could hardly believe that she was lying here beneath him.

Her fingers came up to smooth the hair back from his forehead. It promptly slipped back down again, but her hands had moved to other things. His shirt buttons slid apart easily, baring his muscled chest. Ann could feel him watching her but she kept her eyes on her fingers, concentrating on sliding each button loose. If she looked at him, she might lose the fragile courage she'd found.

The shirt at last fell loose and she set her palms against his chest. The crisp curls tickled her palms. He was warm, so warm. She slid her hands up his chest, feeling the shudder that ran through him as her fingertips grazed his flat nipples. She felt powerful. For the first time, she realized the power of her femininity. Flynn actually trembled when she touched him. It was a heady feeling. But she didn't have long to savor the feeling, because Flynn soon showed her that it worked both ways.

His fingers mastered the front clasp of her bra and Ann's nails dug into his chest as she felt it slip loose. Her eyes swept up to meet his and were caught and held in the brilliant blue fires that burned there. He kept his eyes on hers as he opened the lace garment, brushing it aside without really touching her.

His hand rested between her breasts, unmoving, so close without touching. The tension grew as she waited for him to move. Her palms tingled where they touched him, her breathing was shallow. Why didn't he move? Just when she thought she would surely explode, he moved.

His eyes never left hers as his hand shifted slowly, so slowly, his fingers hovering over her for an instant before his thumb stroked ever so gently across the tip of her breast. Ann hadn't even realized that she was holding her breath until it left her in a sigh that came perilously close to a sob. Her eyes fell shut, her entire being concentrated on that one tiny point as he captured her nipple between thumb and forefinger and tugged lightly.

"Please." The word was a whisper, almost lost in the crackle of the fire. Her back arched, begging, demanding. And the demand was answered. His head dipped and her fingers buried themselves in his hair as his mouth closed around the swollen point. He seemed to know just what she needed, far more clearly than she herself knew. She felt the tugging at her breast but she felt it more deeply, setting up pulsing waves low in her stomach.

Her hips moved in unconscious invitation, seeking something to fill the aching void that had settled inside. Flynn continued to suckle at her breast, his free hand sliding across the satiny skin of her abdomen. The snap of her jeans popped loose, and then the zipper rasped downward and his fingers were sliding beneath the stiff denim. His hand came to rest over the very heart of her need, only the satin of her panties separating them.

Ann stiffened as his fingers stroked her dewy flesh through the thin fabric. His touch was so intimate, the feeling so intense, it was almost painful. He seemed to understand, because he didn't move to deepen the caress until he felt the tension ease.

When she relaxed beneath him, his fingers moved again, stroking, probing, teasing, all with that frustrating layer of cloth between them. His mouth nuzzled between her breasts and she arched upward against his hand, a moan escaping her. He was so close. So close. She felt him smile against her breasts and a sudden spurt of rage made her dig hernails into his shoulders.

He laughed, the merest ghost of masculine triumph brushing her skin. Before the sound could fan her frustration higher, his hand lifted, sliding beneath the waistband of her panties. Ann's breath came out in a sob as he touched her at last, stroking the delicate folds.

Her body arched as he fanned the flames inside her higher and higher, pushing her toward some goal she was half afraid to reach. But, where he'd made allowances for her uncertainties a moment ago, now he was ruthlessly determined to push her forward. His mouth closed over hers, his tongue stabbing within at the same time that his finger slipped inside her, his thumb pressing on the most sensitive part of her.

Ann felt as if she were suddenly spinning apart. The pleasure caught her, lifted her and then dropped her to fall endlessly through space. She was blind, helpless, with nothing to cling to except Flynn's broad shoulders. He held her tight, his mouth and hands gentle on her trembling body, easing her back down from the heights.

She opened dazed eyes as he stood up, bending to lift her in his arms. The fire continued to burn on the hearth, the flames lower now. Her eyes met Flynn's, reading the hunger that still burned in him", and she buried her face against his bare shoulder, oddly shy in the face of his need.

He carried her easily, kicking the door of his bedroom shut behind them. He set her on the bed and then returned to the door, flicking the lock shut, reminding Ann that they were not alone in the apartment. Her cheeks warmed when she remembered her total abandonment of a few minutes ago. The possibility of being interrupted had been the last thing on her mind.

The room was lit only by one small lamp that burned on a table near the bed. In the dim light, Flynn looked intimidatingly large. She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't bring herself to meet them. She stared at his chest as he shrugged out of the loosened shirt and let it fall to the floor. His fingers went to his belt buckle, and Ann felt the color come up in her cheeks at the sight of his arousal blatantly pressed against the heavy denim. She shut her eyes as his jeans hit the floor.

Flynn hesitated, staring at her. She was so still. Was she having second thoughts? He left his shorts on and crossed the room to kneel in front of her.

"Ann?" Her eyelids fluttered but didn't lift, and he cupped her chin, tilting her face to his. "Ann? Look at me, love. You're not afraid of me, are you?"

Her lashes lifted slowly, and he felt as if he could lose himself in the smoky green depths of her eyes. There were so many emotions in her face. Uncertainty, desire and a slumberous look that made his muscles tighten. He bent forward to kiss her and her mouth softened instantly, welcoming him, reassuring him.

Need burned in him. He wanted to bury himself in her, soothing his aching body in the warmth of her. He contented himself with kissing away the tension he could feel, easing her clothes away so slowly she was hardly aware of them going.

When she at last lay naked beneath him, he thought he would surely explode with hunger. He'd had fantasies about how she would look in his bed. The reality far surpassed anything he could have imagined. Her skin was creamy pale, like the finest satin, cool to look at but hot beneath his touch. Her hair spread like fiery silk across his pillow. And her eyes. Her eyes seemed to burn into his very soul.

He could feel her uncertainty as his hands stroked her body, stroking the slumbering fires to new life. If she'd thought it was impossible to want again so soon, he was determined to prove her wrong. He heard the surprised catch in her breathing as his fingers worked magic. She arched beneath him, tangling her fingers in his hair.

The pleading tug of her hands stripped away the last of Flynn's fragile control. He fumbled in the drawer of the nightstand, thinking of her protection though he knew she was long past any clear thoughts. He slid his body over hers, feeling her stiffen and then melt as she felt the heat that burned in him.

Her legs opened, cradling him, welcoming him. He tested himself against her, resting his weight on his hands so that he could watch her face. Her eyes reflected wild uncertainty and her body stiffened for a moment as he slid inside her. He shuddered as she sheathed him. She felt so good, so right. The uncertainty left her eyes, replaced by surprised pleasure and her body softened beneath him. Flynn groaned, lowering himself so that his chest was a sensuous weight on her breasts.

He began to move, slowly, savoring the feel of her tight warmth. Ann matched his movements, clumsily at first, gradually picking up the rhythm, drawing another groan from him. The hunger had been building for so long that the fulfillment could not last long. Flynn felt the delicate contractions grip her body and he moaned a protest. He wanted it to last forever and then his own climax took him, sending him spinning after her into a place where the only reality was each other.