Unbelievable (19 page)

It was obvious Bob had a difficult time talking about it. Josie sympathized. “My parents died when I was fifteen. Susan took on the responsibility of being my guardian. It hurts sometimes to remember, doesn’t it?”

His gaze seemed unreadable. “Does it hurt you?”

“Yes. I still miss them so much, even though it’s been ten years. And…I feel guilty when I think of everything Susan gave up for me. We have no other relatives, and because she was nineteen, she was considered an adult and given legal custody.” It wasn’t as simple as all that, but Josie didn’t want to go into how hard
Susan had fought for her, the extent of what she’d given up.

He reached for her hand. “I doubt Susan would have had it any other way. She seems…determined in everything she does.”

“You’re right about that. She’s a very strong person.” Josie smiled, then decided to change the subject. “Tell me about the boat.”

His fingers tightened. “No. Talking about taking you there makes it damn difficult to drive safely.”

He never seemed to say the expected thing. “Why?”

“Because I wish we were already there.” He glanced at her, his look hot and expectant. “I want to be alone with you, honey. I want to touch you and not stop touching. I want—”

She gasped, then mumbled quickly, “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it.” She fanned herself with a trembling hand and heard him chuckle.

After a minute or two had passed in strained silence, he said, “Okay. I think I’ve come up with some innocuous conversation.”

Relieved because the silence was giving her much too much time to contemplate what would come, Josie grinned. “Go ahead.”

“Tell me about where you work.”

“All right. But I assumed Susan had already told you everything. I don’t want to bore you with details. I know she can go on and on with her bragging. Not that there’s really any reason to brag. But she does act overly proud of me. As I said, she rightfully takes credit for getting me through college and giving me a good head start.”

His mouth opened twice, without him actually
saying anything. He shrugged. “I’d rather hear it from you.”

She supposed he just wanted words flowing to distract him from what they were about to do. She knew it would help her. She’d never felt so much anticipation and yet, she suffered a few misgivings, too. Spontaneous affairs weren’t exactly her forte. The fear of disappointing him, and herself, made her stomach jumpy. So far, they’d been moving at Mach speed. What would happen if she faltered, if her inexperience showed? She couldn’t even contemplate the idea. The fact of her nonexistent love life was too humiliating for words.

“I do home-nursing care. I started out working for an agency, but I hated the impersonal way they functioned. I always got close to the people I worked with, and they became friends, but as soon as they were released from care, I wasn’t supposed to see them ever again. So I decided to start my own business. Susan already knew, through the experience of starting her flower shop, how to go about setting things up, and she helped a lot. It took me a while to get everything going, but now I’m doing pretty well.”

“You like your work?”

“Yes. So far it’s been the only thing I’ve been really good at, and it gives me comfort.”

She knew her mistake instantly when Bob frowned at her. “What exactly does that mean?”

“It means,” she said, measuring her words carefully, “that I’m trying to make changes in my life. I’m twenty-five years old, and I’ve reached most of my business goals. So I’ve set some personal goals for myself. Things I want to see happen before I’m too old to enjoy them.”

He gulped. “Twenty-five?”

“Does that surprise you? I mean, I know Susan must have told you all about me, what I do, my supposed interests, my normal appearance.”

He rubbed one hand over his face, as if in exasperation. Shifting in his seat, he cast a quick glance at her. “Uh, yeah. She did.” His voice dropped. “But you’re even more attractive than I thought you’d be. And you seem more…mature than twenty-five.”

“Thank you.” Josie wondered if much of her maturity came from spending all her free time with the elderly. They were so caring and giving, offering her a unique perspective on life.

“You mentioned personal goals. Tell me about them.”

He sounded so genuinely interested, she hated to distract him. But it wouldn’t do for him to learn
he
was a personal goal. If he discovered the reserved life she’d lived, how sheltered her sister had kept her, would he decide against taking her to the boat? She wasn’t willing to run the risk.

“Everyone has personal goals. Don’t you? I think I remember Susan saying something about you trying to double your company assets within the next five years. Now, that’s a goal.”

He mumbled something she couldn’t hear.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

Turning down a narrow gravel drive that headed toward one of the piers, he slowed the car and gave more attention to his driving. But he kept glancing her way, and finally he said, “It’s my partner who’s actually into
building up the company. I’m satisfied with where we are for now. We’re doing well, and to expand at the rate he wants, we’d have to start putting in tons of overtime. That or take on another partner. I don’t want to do either. Work isn’t the only thing in my life. I want to have time for my grandfather. I want to see other people and pursue other interests. Work is important, but it isn’t everything.”

Marveling at the sentiments that mirrored her own, she said, “I can’t believe this. My sister mentioned your partner, but she said only that he was arrogant and she didn’t like him. She said his only goal seemed to be joking his way through life. In fact, I think she refused to work with him, didn’t she?”

Even in the darkness, she could tell he flushed, the color climbing up his neck and staining his cheekbones. “Yeah, well, she took an instant dislike to…Nick. I couldn’t quite figure out why—”

“Susan claims he tried to schmooze her, to charm her. She can pick out a womanizer a mile away, and she said that Nick is the type who draws women like flies with his
false charm.
”

With a rude snort, he glared at her. “That’s not true. And besides, Nick is very discreet.”

“He’s evidently not discreet enough. Susan is very liberated and doesn’t like being treated any differently than a man. From what she said, I assume your partner is a bit of a chauvinist. ‘Pushy and condescending’ is how she described him.”

He muttered a short curse. “Yeah, well, Nick doesn’t particularly like pushy women, either, and your sister is pushy!”

Josie didn’t deny it; she even laughed. “True enough. I consider it part of her charm.”

A skeptical look replaced his frown. “If you say so. Anyway, it was easier for her to work with…me.”

Josie laughed. “Susan said you had the best advertising agency in town. And she showed me the ads you worked up for the flower shop. They’re terrific. She’s gotten a lot of feedback on them already.” Josie patted his arm. “Susan claims you’re the brains of the agency, while this Nick person only adds a bit of talent. But I’d say you’re pretty talented, too. And not at all what I expected.”

“Oh?” He sounded distracted, almost strangled.

“I’m beginning to think finding me dates is Susan’s only hobby, and I would have wagered on you being another guy like the last one.”

That got his attention. “What was wrong with the last one?”

“Nothing, if you like men who only talk about themselves, their prospects for the future, the impeccability of their motives. He laid out his agenda within the first hour of our meeting. He actually told me that if I suited him, after about a month of dating, he’d sleep with me to make certain we were compatible, then we could set a wedding date. Of course, he’d require that I sign a pre-nuptial agreement since he worked for his father, and there could be no possibility of me tinkering with the family business.” She laughed again, shrugging her shoulders in wonder. “Where Susan finds so many marriage-minded men is beyond me.”

After muttering something she couldn’t hear, he turned to her. “I hope you walked out on him at that point.”

“Of course I did. And then I had to listen to a lecture
from Susan because I didn’t give him a chance. She claimed he was only nervous, since it was our first date and all.”

He grunted, the sound filled with contempt. “Sounds to me like he’s a pompous ass.” He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “You know, it strikes me that your sister doesn’t know you very well.”

Josie didn’t know herself, or at least, the self she was tonight, so she couldn’t really argue. “No. Susan still sees me as a shy, self-conscious fifteen-year-old, crying over the death of our parents. Afraid and clingy. She put her own life on hold to make certain my life didn’t change too much. She’s always treated me like I was some poor princess, just waiting for the handsome prince to show up and take me to a mortgage-free castle. Now she thinks of it as her duty to get me married and settled. She’s only trying to see things through to what she considers a natural conclusion to the job she took on the day our parents died. It’s like the last chapter in my book, and until she’s gotten through it, I’m afraid she won’t stop worrying about me long enough to concentrate on her own story.”

“You’re hardly in danger of becoming an old maid. Twenty-five is damn young.”

“I know it, but Susan is very old-fashioned, and very protective. Convincing her to let up isn’t going to be easy.”

“You’re pretty tolerant with her, aren’t you? In fact, you’re not at all like she claimed you to be.”

“I can imagine exactly how Susan described me.” Josie couldn’t quite stifle her grin, or take the teasing note out of her words. “Probably as the female version of you.”

He shifted uneasily as he pulled the car into an empty space right behind a long dock where a dozen large boats were tied. He turned the truck off and leaned toward her, his gaze again drifting over her from head to toe, lingering on her crossed legs before coming up to catch her gaze. “We’re here.”

She gulped. Her stomach suddenly gave a sick little flip of anxiety, when she realized that she didn’t have a single idea what she should do next, or what was expected of her.

“Josie.” His palm cradled her cheek, his fingers curling around her neck. “I want you to know, I’m not in the habit of doing this.”

“This?” The breathless quality of her voice should have embarrassed her, but she was too nervous and anxious to be embarrassed.

“I’m thirty-two years old, honey. Not exactly a kid anymore. I know the risks involved in casual sex, and I’m usually more cautious. But you’ve thrown me for a loop and…hell, I’m not even sure what I’m doing. I just know I want to be with you, alone and naked. I want to be inside you and I want to hear you tell me how much you want me, too.”

Her words emerged on a breathless whisper. “I do.”

He held her face between both hands, keeping her still while he looked into her eyes, studying her, his gaze intense and probing. “I can’t remember ever wanting a woman as much as I want you.” He kissed her briefly, but it was enough to close her eyes and steal her breath. “This can’t be a one-night stand.” He seemed surprised that he’d said that, but he added, “Promise me.”

She nodded. She’d have promised anything at that point.

“Tell me you won’t hate me for this.”

That got her eyes open. “I don’t understand.”

His forehead touched hers. “I’m afraid I’m going to regret this, because you’re going to regret it.”

Her hand touched his jaw and when he looked at her, she smiled. “Impossible.” She’d never been so sure of anything in her life.

He hesitated a second more, then opened his door with a burst of energy and jogged around to her side of the truck. She’d already opened her own door, but he was there before she could slide off her seat. It seemed a long way down, hampered by her skirt, so she was grateful for his help. But he didn’t just take her hand. He lifted her out and didn’t set her down, carrying her instead.

He didn’t have far to walk. The boat he headed for was only partially illuminated by a string of white lights overhead, draped from pole to pole along the length of the pier. His footsteps sounded hollow on the wooden planks as he strode forward. Holding her with one arm, he dug in his pocket for a key and fumbled with the lock on the hatch, then managed the entrance without once bumping her head. She barely had a chance to see the upper deck, where she glimpsed a hot tub, before he began navigating a short, narrow flight of stairs. When they reached the bottom, he paused, then kissed her again, his arms tightening and his breath coming fast.

He lowered her to her feet by small degrees, letting her body rub against his, making her more aware than ever of his strength, his size, his arousal. It was so dark
inside, Josie couldn’t see much, but she didn’t need to. He led her to a low berth and together they sank to the edge of the mattress. When he lifted his mouth, it was to utter only one request.

“For tonight,” he said, “please, call me anything but Bob.”

H
E’D LOST HIS MIND
. That could be the only explanation for making such a ridiculous comment. Not that he’d take it back. If she called him Bob one more time, he’d expire of disgust—that or shout out the truth and ruin everything.

But now she’d gone still, and he could feel a volatile mixture of dazed confusion and hot need emanating from her. Damn it all, why did things have to be so confused, especially with this woman?

“I don’t understand.”

The soft glow of her eyes was barely visible in the dark interior of the boat as she waited for him to explain. But no explanation presented itself to his lust-muddled mind, so he did the only thing he could think of to distract her. He kissed her again, and kept on kissing her.

Night sounds swelled around them; the clacking of the boat against the pier, the quiet rush of waves rolling to the shore, a deep foghorn. Her lips, soft and full, parted for his tongue. He tasted her—her excitement, her sweetness, her need. She pulled his tongue deeper, suckling him, and he groaned.

What this woman did to him couldn’t bear close
scrutiny. He didn’t believe in love at first sight; he wasn’t sure love existed at all. Certainly,
he’d
never seen it. But something, some emotion he wasn’t at all familiar with, swore she was the right woman, the woman he needed as much as wanted. Her scent made him drunk with lust, her touch—innocent and searching and curious—made him hungrier than he’d known he could be. She presented a curious, fascinating mix of seductive sexuality and quiet shyness. She spoke openly and from her heart—leaving herself blushing and totally vulnerable.

Lord, he wanted her.

Working his way down her throat, he teased, in no hurry to reach a speedy end, wanting to go on tasting her and enjoying her for the whole night.

If she’d allow that.

He listened to her sighs and measured her response, the way she urged him. He wanted this to be special for her, too. If later she hated him for his deception, he needed to be able to remind her of how incredible the feelings had been. It might be his only shot at countering her anger, of getting a second chance. It might be the only hold he’d have on her. So it had to be as powerful for her as it was for him. And with that thought in mind, he rested his palm just below her breast. Her heartbeat drummed in frantic rhythm and he realized she was holding her breath suspended while she waited.

With his mouth he nuzzled aside her blouse and tasted the swell of her breast, then moved lower, drawing nearer and nearer to her straining nipple. His progress was deliberately, agonizingly slow.

Using only the edge of his hand, he plumped her
flesh, pushing her breast up for his mouth, for his lips and tongue and teeth. He kissed each pale freckle, touched them with his tongue. Josie squirmed, urging him to hurry, but he knew the anticipation would only build until they were both raw with need.

“Please…” she begged, and the broken rasp of her voice made him shudder.

“Shhh. There’s no hurry,” he whispered, and to appease her just a bit, his thumb came up to tease her stiffened nipple through her bra, plying it, rolling it with the gentlest of touches. Her back arched and her fingers twisted in his hair. He winced, both with the sting of her enthusiasm and his own answering excitement. The tip of his tongue dipped low, moving along the very edge of her lace bra, close to her nipple, but not quite touching.

“Bob.”

“No!” He lifted his head, kissing her again, hard and quick. “Shush, Josie. You can moan for me, curse me or beg me. But otherwise, no talking.”

“But…”

Through the thin fabric of her blouse and lace bra, he caught her nipple between his fingers and pinched lightly, feeling her tremble and jerk and pant. Her response was incredible, as hot as his own, and it had never been this way before. He tugged, his mouth again on her throat, lightly sucking her skin against his teeth, giving her a dual assault. She cried out, and the interior of the small cabin filled with the begging words he wanted to hear.

“Oh, please…”

It was a simple thing to ease her backward on the berth until she was stretched out before him. Knowing
she lay there, his, waiting and wanting him, was enough to make him come close to embarrassing himself. The possessiveness was absurd, but undeniable, even after such a short acquaintance. Looking at her, his hunger was completely understandable. His erection strained against his jeans, full and hot and heavy, pulsing with his every heartbeat.

His fingers stroked over her cheek. “Be still just a moment.”

He fumbled behind him, looking for the small lantern they used for fishing. He wanted to see her, but he didn’t want harsh light intruding on their intimacy or maybe bringing on a shyness she hadn’t exhibited so far. As he lit the lamp and turned the flame down low, the soft glow spread out around the cabin, not reaching the corners, but illuminating her body in select places—the rise of a breast, the roundness of a thigh, a high cheekbone and the gentle slant of a narrow nose. Those wide, needy eyes. Nick dragged in another deep breath to steady himself, but it didn’t help.

Never had he seen a woman looking more excited, or more inviting. Her hands lay open beside her head, palms up, her slender fingers curled. She watched him, her eyes heavy and sensual and filled with anticipation. One leg was bent at the knee which had forced her skirt high—high enough that he could just see the pale sheen of satiny panties.

Nick stood, then jerked his shirt over his head. His gaze never left her, and as she looked him over, taking in every inch of his chest, he smiled. Her eyes lingered on places, so hot he could almost feel their touch, and her
body moved, small moves, hungry moves. Impatient moves.

Guilt over his lies filled him, but he knew he’d do the same again. He’d do whatever was necessary to get to this moment, to have Josie Jackson—such a surprise—watching him in just that way, waiting for him.

Susan Jackson could think whatever she wanted, as long as Josie accepted him.

The shoes came off next, then his socks. He unsnapped his jeans and eased his zipper down just enough to give some relief. His eyes closed as he felt his erection loosened from the tight restraint. He took a moment to gather his control.

“What about your pants?”

The throatiness of her voice, the rise and fall of her breasts, proved how impatient she was becoming.

Lowering himself to sit on the edge of the cot again, he smiled and touched the tip of her upturned nose. He wanted to gather her close and just hold her; he wanted to be inside her right this second, driving toward a blinding release. The conflicting emotions wreaked havoc with his libido and made his hands tremble.

“Fair’s fair. You have some catching up to do.”

He leaned down, bracing himself with an elbow beside her head while his free hand began undoing the tiny buttons of her blouse. He kissed her again, soft teasing kisses that he knew made her want more. But he wouldn’t give her his tongue, just skimming her lips and nipping with his teeth while she strained toward him. When she reached for him, he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head. “Relax, Josie.”

A strangled sound escaped her. “Relax? Right now?”

His chuckle was pure male gratification. “You said you wanted some fun, some excitement. Will you trust me?”

“To do what?” Rather than sounding suspicious or concerned, she sounded breathless with anticipation.

Her blouse lay open and he pulled it from her skirt to spread it wide, exposing her lace bra, which did nothing to hide her erect little nipples. He couldn’t pull his gaze away from them. “To give you as much pleasure as you can possibly stand.” As he spoke, he carefully closed his teeth around one tight, sensitive tip, biting very gently, then tugging enough to make her back arch high and her breath come out in a strained cry.

“You have sensitive breasts.” He shuddered in his own response.

“Please…”

Licking until her bra was damp over both nipples, making them painfully tight, knowing how badly she needed him, he showed her just how much pleasure she could expect and the extent of his patience in such things. He loved giving pleasure to a woman, loved being the one in complete control, but never before had it been so important. This time wasn’t just to make being together enjoyable, but to tie her to him, to make her need him and what he could do for her.
Only him.
He had to build a craving in her—a craving that only he could satisfy.

He had to believe this explosive chemistry was as new for her as it was for him. Knowing women as well as he did, her inexperience was plain. She hadn’t touched him other than to desperately clutch his shoulders or his neck when she needed an anchor. And her surprise had, several times now, showed itself when
he’d petted her in a particularly pleasurable place. Thinking of all the places he intended to touch her tested his control.

He caught her shoulder and turned her onto her stomach. Lifting her head, she peered at him over her shoulder, but he only grinned and began sliding down the zipper that ran the length of her skirt. The skirt was still tight, hugging her rounded bottom and distracting him enough that he stopped to knead that firm flesh, filling his hands with her and hearing her soft groan. He bent and kissed the back of her knee through her nylons. She squirmed again, her body moving in sexy little turns against the berth.

His mouth inched higher, bringing forth a moan. She buried her face in a pillow, her hands fisting on either side of the pillowcase.

She’d worn stockings, fastened with a narrow garter belt.
He loved stockings.

Such a little flirt, he thought, forcing away all other musings because he didn’t want to get trapped in his own emotional notions. Using two fingers, he unhooked a stocking and moved it aside so he could taste soft, hot flesh. Her thighs were firm, silky smooth, now opening slightly as he nuzzled against her.

“Bob…”

He gripped her skirt and yanked it down. She squeaked, and buried her head deeper into the pillow. The silky panties slid over her skin as he caressed her rounded buttocks, then between, his fingers dipping low, feeling her dampness, the unbelievable heat, her excitement. His heartbeat thundered and he retreated, afraid he’d lose himself in the knowledge she was ready.
For him.

He kissed her nape, down her spine. The bra un-latched and he pulled her arms free, then turned her again.

Even in the darkness he could see her crimson cheeks, and the way she held the bra secure against her breasts gave him pause. Josie wouldn’t know how to use her body to get her way. She had no notion of the power women tried to wield over men; everything she felt was sincere. His hands shook.

In no way did he want to rush her, or coerce her into doing anything she didn’t want. Her body might be ready for him, but emotionally she was still dealing with the unseemly rush of their attraction.

Stretching out beside her, he pulled her into his arms and simply held her, stroking her hair and back. He wanted to give her time to understand what was happening, to accept it. She needed to know he would never force her into anything, that she could call a halt at any time—even though it might kill him.

So he held her, passively, patiently. But he couldn’t control the pounding of his heart beneath her cheek, or his uneven breaths, or the tightness of his straining muscles as his whole body rebelled against the delay.

“What…what’s wrong?”

He sighed. For whatever reason, she had planned this. There was no other explanation for the way she’d come on to him, her verbal innuendoes, her willingness to come to the boat with him. But she was also very unsure of herself—amazing considering her natural sensuality and her allure, how completely she responded to his every touch.

He took her small hand and flattened it on his
chest, holding it there. “Josie, are you certain you want to do this?”

She reared up, staring at him with something close to horror. “Don’t you?”

The laugh emerged without his permission. Her innocence delighted him. “Honey, I think I’d give up breathing to stay in this boat for a week, loving you day and night—and twice in the afternoons.” He touched her face, tracing her brows and the delicate line of her jaw. “But I don’t want you to do anything that bothers you. There’s no hurry, you know. If you’d rather…”

She frowned and said with some acerbity, “I’d rather you not torture me by stopping now.” Then, after a second of lip-biting, she released the bra and it fell to the bed.

Nick halted in midbreath. Damn, but she had pretty breasts. Full and soft and white. He didn’t move, but he forced his gaze from her luscious breasts to her face. “What do you want, Josie?”

“I want…” Pink spread from her cheeks to her breasts, and he half expected her to shy away once more. Instead she said, “I want you to kiss me again.”

Very softly, in a mere whisper, he asked, “Where?”

Her nipples were pointed, pink, tempting him. Already he could almost taste them on his tongue. When her hand lifted, hovered, then touched exactly where he wanted his mouth to be, he groaned. “Come here.”

He stayed perfectly still, leaving it to her to make the next move—a small salve to his conscience for being so manipulative. But he did open his mouth, his gaze on her breast, and with a small sound of excitement she leaned over him.

Her nipple brushed his lips, and he lifted a hand to guide her, to keep her close while he enclosed her in the heat of his mouth and suckled softly. Her arms trembled as she balanced above him, and her harsh breathing, interspersed with moans, made his jeans much too tight and confining. He felt ready to burst. Her pelvis bumped the side of his hip, then again, more deliberately, pressing and lingering. She pushed her heat against him, trying to find some relief, and he groaned.

His patience, his control, were severely strained by the taste of her and her generous reaction to him. Only the sure knowledge that this had to be perfect, that she had to believe they were magic together, kept him from losing control.