The Haunting of Brier Rose (26 page)

With her decision came a sudden piquancy, a compelling need she
had never felt. She had to seek him out immediately and ask him to make love to
her. A rush of heat passed through her as she slipped out of her room. What
would she say to Taylor? How would she ask him to take her? Would she simply
disrobe and offer herself? How did one ask such a thing of a man? Her mouth
went dry as she hurried down the hall to Bea's room. She walked through the
smoky apartment, searching for Taylor, but he wasn't there.

Next she tried his room. She could hear his shower going as she
approached the door. Her first thought was to knock. Then she reconsidered and
quietly pulled the door open. He didn't call out to her. Obviously he hadn't
heard her come in over the spray of the water.

Still in bare feet and wet nightgown, she padded across the floor
to the bathroom, which was roiling with steam. The Boston fern fronds trembled
in the wafting air currents. Rose paused at the threshold and glanced at Taylor's
indistinct form through the frosted glass of the shower door. She realized she
smelled of smoke and remembered that her nightgown was plastered with flour and
water. Why hadn't she thought of bathing first before coming to him? How desirable
would she appear to him? She was crazy to have come into his room like this.

Before she could turn and flee back down the hall, she saw the
shower door slide open slightly.

"Rose?" Taylor's tanned face appeared in the opening.
His raven hair was slicked back, and beads of water hung in his lashes.

"I—I just came to—" She flushed hotly,
losing her nerve altogether.

He scanned her bedraggled nightgown and her face. Then he tilted
his head and slowly smiled. "To scrub my back?"

"Taylor, I—" She backed up a step, wondering how
she would ever extricate herself from this situation with any semblance of
grace. What had possessed ho to come to his room?

"Shut the door and come in, Rose. All the heat's going
out."

Thankful that he hadn't asked the reason for her presence, she
pulled the door shut.

"Come here," he continued.

She ventured closer, stepping onto the plush bath mat. Swallowing
her embarrassment, she looked up at him. "Taylor, I—I changed my
mind."

For a moment he stared at her, as if disbelieving the words she
had just uttered. For an awful moment more, she was afraid that he might ask
her to explain what she meant, and she wasn't quite certain if she could come
right out and say what she wanted of him.

"Then take off that nightgown," he finally replied.
"And come on in."

He winked at her and left the door slightly open, as if expecting
her to obey him.

Rose hesitated. She hadn't anticipated joining Taylor in the
shower. She had visualized the act of love as taking place in a bed, with a low
lighting and plenty of blankets to shield her nakedness from his gaze. She
wasn't anxious to step into the lighted cubicle of the shower and meet him
face-to-face with nothing to hide behind but a washcloth or a bar of soap.

"Rose?" he called above the thunder of the shower.

Rose frowned. What kind of coward was she, to want to hide from
him? He'd already seen her breasts. And what did she have to hide from him,
anyway? She wanted to give him everything—her heart and soul. No holds
barred. This was not the time to hang back.

Yet, what would he look like naked? She had never seen a naked
man before. She glanced at his blurred shape and fought down the clamoring of
her heart. She had to carry this through. She wanted to carry it through. She
wanted to see him bare and beautiful, as beautiful as she'd dreamed he would
be. And she wanted to offer her own nakedness without reservation. With
trembling hands she pulled her damp nightgown over her head and slipped out of
her panties. Then she eased open the shower door and stepped in.

She looked up immediately, not daring to take in his full figure.
Taylor stood facing her, his back to the spray. His powerful body appeared to
fill up the small enclosure. He looked incredibly dark and tall against the
white tile. Drops of water clustered on his chest and accentuated the streak of
hair that feathered down the center of his firm abdomen. He stood there gazing
at her, with his intense, inscrutable expression darkening his eyes.

"Rose," he murmured, struck by the sight of her.

She flushed. Then he reached out for her, cupping her shoulders
and slowly sliding his hands down the backs of her arms until her chilled
fingers rested in his hot palms. Without breaking eye contact, he drew her
toward him as if leading her in a dance. Mesmerized, she let him pull her
closer until their bodies touched—first her nipples to his warm chest and
then her belly to his hips. The sensation of his hard wet body against hers was
like a bolt of electricity that sent her heart hammering out of control. She
gasped and reached up, linking her arms around his neck to keep from collapsing
out of sheer shock.

Taylor surrounded her in a warm embrace, one hand at her back and
one in her hair. Slowly he slid both hands down her back to her rump and lifted
her slightly against him.

"
Rose
," he whispered, his
mouth near her ear. "Are you sure of this?"

"Yes." Her voice wavered, but her body knew a conviction
more solid than anything she had ever experienced. She wanted Taylor. Every
cell in her body wanted Taylor. Her mouth wanted to kiss him, her breasts ached
for his hands and lips, and deep inside she longed for him, even though she had
no way of knowing what it would feel like to encompass him.

Between them she felt the strange and wonderful length of him
grow and harden. She started to say something, but he bent down to kiss her,
and the shower spray broke over the top of his head to splash her face and
hair. Water drenched her upturned face and streamed down her cheeks, but she
was hardly aware of it. All she could feel was the way his naked skin burned
against hers and the way his lips took possession of hers. The inside of his
mouth was even warmer than the water that drenched them, and his kiss harder
than the relentless pounding streams. He crushed her tightly, nearly lifting
her off her feet. He had never kissed her this way before, with such dominating
strength, and she had never kissed him back with such needful abandon.

Taylor pressed feverish kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her
eyelids and her temples while the water sprayed around them. Rose let herself
melt into him, feeling as if the water consecrated them, as if she were being
born again in the spray. In that instant she knew that this moment with Taylor
would sustain her to the end of time, and that she would never need more than
this to know heaven on earth. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face to him and
moaned his name as if chanting a prayer.

The water thundered in her ears as he turned and backed her
against the wet wall of the shower. She was lost—lost to the noise, to
his hot demanding mouth, to the way he took possession of her, and the way his
long hands splayed over her hips.

"Ah, Rose!" he exclaimed, lifting her up and pinning her
against the tile. She felt his rigid shaft between her thighs and knew the
moment of truth had arrived. In a few seconds she would be his. Another electric
shock zapped through her. She cried out and lolled her head back. She felt the
tip of him against her and wrapped her legs around his hips.

"Damn—" Taylor gasped, surging against her. He
dropped his head to the small of her shoulder and crushed her to the tile. She
felt the rigid length of him pass across the unbelievably sensitive part of
her. When she tried to adjust to accommodate him, he squeezed her rump with both
hands and lowered his mouth to her breasts.

"No," he breathed. "Not yet!"

As he bent down to nibble her, the shower hit her full force. She
looked down at his raven head, taking the spray as if being anointed, writhing
in ecstasy as he drove her crazy with longing. She wanted him so much, that she
cried out in supplication. Slowly Taylor raised his head, kissing her exposed
throat and her lips, while his hips moved against hers.

"Taylor!" she pleaded. She couldn't stand much more.

"We've got to get out of this shower," he replied.
"This is your first time—"

"Taylor!" She raked her nails down his back, arching
against him with a hunger that was about to overwhelm her.

"Rose, this isn't the place to…I’ve got to get some
protection."

She ran her hands down his slick muscular back to hold him
against her. Her breath came fast and hard as she felt him at the entrance of
her most private opening. She shifted her hips to guide him closer, and he
groaned.

"Turn it off," he said. "Turn off the damn
shower!"

She fumbled for the handle of the shower and pressed it down as
Taylor reached back and yanked open the door. The next thing she knew, he had
lifted her out of the tub. She straddled his hips as he sank to his knees on
the floor of the bathroom. She felt the soft plush fabric of the bath mat as he
laid her upon it.

"It might hurt," he said against her lips.

"No," she murmured, running her hands into his glossy
wet hair. "Not with you. I want you, Taylor." All she was aware of
was the way her body screamed for him. She didn't think of the pain, of the
consequences, of the moment after. All she wanted was to take him inside of her
and complete her journey into womanhood by engulfing him.

"Taylor!" she urged. "Just—oh, Taylor!
Please!"

He knelt above her, taut and dripping wet. Then he bent his
elbows and lowered himself to her, probing her with gentle urgency. He seemed
incredibly big, unbelievably blunt, and uncompromisingly male.

"Don't move," he warned, pulling back. "Just don't
move for a minute."

She closed her eyes and reached for his shoulders, lost in the
blind bliss of anticipation. She felt his hand on her, making certain she was
ready for him. Even the touch of his finger was enough to make her arch upward.

His breath blew on her face, hard and strident.

"Tell me if I hurt you."

"Taylor, just—just do it!" She clutched his hard
shoulders. His arms were like columns of marble.

Rose heard him suck in a breath while he pushed into her. She
lifted her hips. He leaned closer and clutched her hips in his big hands. The
pressure of his manhood against her delicate flesh increased as he pulsed
against her. Rose opened her legs to allow him more room. And suddenly he was
partially inside her. She gasped at the strange invasion. Then he pulled away.
Why was he leaving? Desperate for more, she clutched his back, afraid that he
wouldn't keep going.

"Don't stop!" she cried in a hoarse voice.

"Don't worry. I won't. I can't!"

With a grunt, he shoved into her, hard and insistent this time.
She felt a twinge of discomfort as his shaft came up against her maidenhead.
She gasped as he pulled back and then pushed further into her, all the way into
the very depths of her. For a moment he remained motionless, as if trying to
gain control over himself. She glanced up at him and saw that his eyes were
tightly closed and his mouth was set in a grim, determined line, almost as if
he were suffering. That she could make him lose control gave her an
awe-inspiring sense of power.

Then his mouth sank upon hers, and she met his kiss in a glorious
melding of body and soul. A rapturous fulfilling sensation obliterated the
slight pain as he moved back and forth, letting her get accustomed to him. He
twined his fingers in her wet tresses, while his tongue plunged into her mouth.
For a long moment he lay atop her, gently undulating against her. Finally, his lips
broke from hers.

"Okay so far?" His voice was husky.

"Yes!" she gasped. "Oh, Taylor, yes!"

She squeezed his arms as he drew back and pushed in again, this
time more forcefully, and again and again until the surface of his skin broke
out in a sweat. Rose held on for dear life, surprised that the act of
lovemaking could be so arduous.

"Rose. Oh, Rose!" He sank his head to the small of her
shoulder. His damp hair tickled her neck, sending a layer of chills across her
feverish skin. She stroked his hair and moved beneath him, smiling and gasping
with each new sensation.

And soon he was plunging into her, completely uncontrolled. She
wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Don't move!" he cried. "Don't move, Rose!"

"I'm not!"

"Ah, sweetheart!" he gasped. He thrust against her
again and again.

Suddenly, he pulled out.

"No!" she wailed. She grabbed his arms.

"We've got to go to the bed. Not here! This is your first
time—"

"I don't care!"

She felt devastated, desperate against the burning flame of need
that flared deep inside her. If he didn't return to her, she would die of
wanting him. She reached down and surrounded his shaft with her hand, urging it
back toward her.

He moaned.

Ignoring his protests, she guided him to her, amazed at his silky
firmness. "Stay, Taylor, please!"

With a growl of passion, he yielded to her demands. He drove into
her, flattening her against the bath mat, pummeling her mercilessly, a slave to
his desire for her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. Something new was happening to
her. She could feel a wave of something she could only describe as anxiety
building deep within. She writhed, feeling as if she would crawl out of her
skin, or shatter into oblivion.

He pinned her wrists to the mat and ground into her, his abdomen
rubbing against hers in a frenetic rhythm. She reached for his mouth and arched
into him, taking each assault with a thrust of her own. Just when she thought
she would go mad with need, she felt him burst deep inside her, filling her
with a molten warmth that matched her own. Rose cried out, astonished by the
uncontrollable spasms that rocked her. He let go of her wrist and braced
himself on his palms while she clutched his wide shoulders. Then she filled her
hands with the muscles of his buttocks and her mouth with the strong wedge of
his tongue, and for a long while refused to release him.