It's News to Her (16 page)

At the moment their lips came together again, he uttered a soft groan deep in his throat and held her fiercely against his heart. This time it felt like a homecoming, and their kisses were sweet and ardent all at the same time. With gratitude as well as her freed curiosity to learn every inch of him, Hunter slowly slid her hands up and down his back. He was lean but toned and she made a mental note to ask him if he was athletic or did he secretly work out at the estate instead of a gym to keep fit? There was so much she didn't know, so much they didn't know about each other. What was important now, though, was to love him without reservation.

The last time they'd stood here, he'd been angry and urgent, afraid. She understood now that he'd been afraid of losing what wasn't yet his. Now, as he invited her with deep, coaxing kisses, she responded, releasing all of the passion she'd locked inside herself.

“Hunter…”

“Come with me.” As his body was already telling her of his need, hers was emitting its own messages. Taking his uninjured hand, she led him to her bedroom.

The bedside lamp was still on from when she first woke, and the dark burgundy shade pushed the light down and across the satin red-and-gray, geometric-patterned bedspread. That and the dove-gray walls often
made her think of being adrift in a mist-cloaked sea. It was an invitation to oblivion that helped her relax after long hours or stressful days at the station. But bringing Cord here made her see the romantic aura in the room—romantic in a serious, mature way. Of course, even when younger, she'd never been a lace-and-ruffles kind of girl.

“I wondered what it was like in here.”

Cord only briefly surveyed their surroundings, and Hunter heard something controlled in his voice. “Did you?” She unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled it out of the waistband of his trousers. As she began to ease the silk over his shoulders, Hunter touched her lips to where his heart beat powerfully. “And what did you imagine?”

“I couldn't. I kept getting hung up on the image of Denny here,” he admitted.

Stepping behind him to finish helping him off with the shirt, Hunter then laid it on the gray parson's chair in the corner nearest the bathroom door. Returning to him, she stroked her hands up and down his back, then slid them around his waist and caressed his chest and taut abdomen. “Things are totally different now.” With every word, her lips caressed the flesh between his shoulder blades. “I was in a snow-blind phase. Everything was white. Afterward, it felt unclean, so I donated the entire bedroom set, every fixture and piece of art, every towel and linen, to a single mother I'd heard about who was struggling to support herself and her two children because her worthless ex refused to pay child support.
There's been no one here since but me,” she said, stroking her cheek against him. “This is our place now.”

“I'm sorry for what he did to you. But thank you for wanting…changes—damn, Hunter, come here.”

She had been enjoying learning his musculature, how with the most delicate strokes, she could make his pulse leap, and when she'd trailed her fingers down the zipper flap of his pants, she'd triggered his impatience. When he spun around, he swept her up into his arms—only to end up groaning in pain for the reckless move.

His wound, she realized, and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to relieve him of her weight against his arm.

“Better?”

“Glorious. Kiss me again.”

As with his entreaty, there was a yearning in their union that filled her heart with the sweetness and beauty of it. “You need to let me get your pants off.”

“What a hell of a time to get hurt,” Cord muttered in self-disgust. “I'm the one who should be undressing you.”

“I'll give you a rain check. Sit down,” she told him. “Unless you want to risk a return trip to the E.R. so you can get those stitches redone.”

Murmuring another expletive, Cord sat down on the bed.

Unhooking her ankles and shifting back on his lap, Hunter slid her legs beside his hips.

Breathing more deeply, he stroked her calves and
thighs. “Besides lap dancing and being double-jointed, what other talents do you possess?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “I thought we'd discover that as we move along.”

With another rasp of gratitude, he slid his hands under her sleep shirt to discover the bit of lace she almost wasn't wearing beneath. “Heaven help me,” he said, pressing a kiss between her breasts. “If I knew then what I know now…”

Laughing softly, Hunter gently urged him to lie down. “That's what happens when you don't have anyone to spend your money on. I spoil myself with nice lingerie.”

“Remind me to give you a raise.” Continuing his exploration upward, he caressed her bare back before moving to cover her breasts with his hands. Sucking in a harsh breath. “Sweet reality. You feel exquisite. I want to see.”

But his bandages slowed him again as the teeth on the clasp almost caught in her sleep shirt. As he swore and apologized, Hunter swept the thing over her head and tossed it in the direction of the chair.

“So beautiful,” Cord murmured, coaxing her down to his mouth.

Hunter gave herself to his lips, tongue and fingers, closing her eyes at the sensual ministrations. As her need grew, she arched closer to get more and rocked helplessly against his arousal because she felt every moist lave of his tongue and flick of his thumb in her womb.

“Just loosen my pants,” he entreated. “I need to be inside you.”

Wanting him to stretch completely out on the bed so he could be more comfortable, she slid off of him and crouched to quickly remove his shoes and socks, then stood to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his slacks.

Mesmerized once she succeeded in her task, Cord slipped his fingers into her lacy thong. “What color do they call this?”

“Paradise Pearl.”

“It certainly is.”

Once they were naked, Cord reached for her, but Hunter evaded him to fold down the bedspread and the top sheet. In the next instant, she found herself on her back and quickly covered by Cord's hard body. For torturous moments they simply gazed into each other's eyes as they absorbed the provocative sensations of their nudity. There was almost an unspoken contest as to who could stay still the longest, but being male, he was created to lose in that challenge of wills.

When he saw the light of amusement in her eyes, Cord uttered a rumbling growl deep in his throat and slid down to finish his survey of her body. Each breath came more quickly or grew more labored. Their bodies, once cool, became feverish and damp as they explored and aroused. It never crossed Hunter's mind to be shy with him, even when he explored her intimately with his mouth, as he had with his fingers.

But when she eased back from that first crest of ecstasy, Hunter knew she didn't want to go over the edge
and through that little death without him. “Please,” she whispered, drawing him upward. “Now.”

Rising above her, Cord eased himself into her.

Hunter trembled as her body adjusted, then thrilled to his slick, powerful invasion. She wrapped her arms around him to bring all of him back against her.

Groaning, Cord lightly scored the side of her neck with his teeth, only to shudder and bury his face in her hair. “I'm going to disappoint you the first time,” he told her.

“You can't. You feel too good.”

“Darling…”

His whisper sounded more like a prayer. Her heart overflowing, Hunter buried her hands in his hair, then dug her heels in beside his hips and led them in that ancient dance that carried them to oblivion.

 

When Cord opened his eyes again, he wasn't sure if it was ten minutes or ten hours later. The darkness offered little help. They were still sleeping spoon fashion, and not only was he reluctant to lose this indescribable feeling, he hated intruding on Hunter's rest. But besides needing to know what time it was, he was hungry. Ravenous for her again, as well. He wouldn't let himself do anything about that for a while; she felt as insubstantial as a dream in his arms and needed to rest.

“I'm awake.” Lifting his bandaged hand that had found safety from accidental bumps by covering her left breast, she kissed his exposed fingertips. “Go ahead and move if you have to.”

First, Cord buried his face in her hair, kissed her behind her ear and breathed in her scent. “I'm bone-dry and starving. What time is it?”

Stretching a bit, Hunter read, “One on the nose. I can go get that wine and food.”

“A couple of bottles of water, too?”

Already switching on the nightstand light and twisting out of bed to reach for her sleep shirt, Hunter said, “Done.”

Captivated anew by her beauty and her comfort with her body, Cord didn't head for the bathroom until he heard the refrigerator open in the kitchen. How quickly life could change. Inevitably he thought of all yesterday had held. Now, however, there was only peace and joy.

He'd fantasized about endlessly making love with Hunter over the years, and nothing was supposed to be able to top a fantasy. However, reality was better. He smiled with pleasure at the discoveries he was already making about her—her indulgence for enticing lingerie, her pleasure with exploring his body, her playfulness and wicked sense of humor…her genuine enjoyment of sex.

Making love.

There was a difference, he admitted a minute later as he exited the bathroom while fastening a towel around his waist. He'd never believed it. He'd heard some guys who were in serious relationships talk, and in very private moments he dreamed, but he could never have dreamed of what he'd experienced tonight with Hunter.

In the kitchen, he found her tearing the wrapping off
of what turned out to be heated garlic toast; she added it to a shallow bowl of nuked ravioli.

“That actually smells great…but it looks scary,” he told her, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist for a snuggle.

“It's take-out and homemade, not from a machine. There's a family place just a few streets away. I buy an entire lasagna-size pan at a time and portion it. Half Italian sausage, half four-cheese.”

“But only one plate.”

“And one fork. It's called sharing and romantic. Come on. You carry the wine. Oh, and I forgot the water. Better get you a tray.” After getting things situated again, she led the way back to the bedroom.

“We're eating in bed?”

“An indulgent pleasure of mine, particularly if I'm feeling sorry for myself or under the weather. What, you're worried about spills? If you're as hungry as you claim to be, I promise you there won't be enough left for crumbs in bed. Are you telling me that you never ate in bed growing up? Not even when you had the measles or chicken pox?”

Offering a droll glance over his shoulder as they parted ways at the foot of the bed, he said, “Boarding and prep schools tend to frown upon it.”

“What about picnics?”

“Does lunch at a sidewalk cafe at a four-star restaurant count?”

“Then all the more reason that for our first date, you need to experience a late-night dinner in bed.”

Bemused, Cord watched her reorganize the bed covers and place the large, shallow bowl in the middle of the mattress. The gentle sway of her hips almost took his mind off of food, as did those legs that went on forever. He'd overheard Tom refer to her as Legs and decided that would be his pet name for her, as well. And he would be the one the personnel director wouldn't dare chastise.

“This isn't our first date,” he said, belatedly realizing what she'd said. He set his tray on the nightstand and held her glass out to her.

“Of course it is.” Taking a sip, she set the goblet on her nightstand.

“The flight to New Jersey was our first date. We had wine and Asian food on the trip back.”

“I was on the job,” she reminded him. “And despised you—or thought I did. I wouldn't have gone out on a date with you even if you'd threatened to fire me.”

“You didn't despise me.” Cord's insides froze at the thought. “You were a little—confused and disappointed. Besides, if we go with your perspective that means we've never been on a date, but we've had sex. Made love,” he amended quickly and with a self-satisfied smile. “You would never do that,”

“Consider it a compliment to your animal magnetism.” Sitting down cross-legged on the bed, Hunter immediately stabbed a ravioli and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm. Delicious and decadent.” She then fed him one.

Taking up his glass, Cord stretched across the
opposite side of the bed and took a grateful sip of his wine, then eyed her indulgently. “All right, have your fun at my expense.”

“Only a little. Actually, I'm teetering on the brink of shock.” She fed him another piece before taking one for herself. Then she dabbed a slice of the garlic bread in the creamy Alfredo sauce and fed it to him, too.

Cord moaned. “You're right, it's good. But you're wrong about the shock part. There are no rules, and as with all of life changes, it's bound to take time to adjust, to learn to accept and adapt to each other's differences.”

“Twenty-four hours ago, I thought you realized you'd made a mistake and changed your mind about wanting me. Love wasn't even hinted at. Now, here we are. Do you realize that I might even be pregnant? It's all backward.”

“It's perfect…for us.” Determined to keep her thinking positive, Cord was again late in catching the idea that she'd just thrown out to the universe. As his heart made an acrobatic move that should have been medically impossible, he saw her reach for her wine. He smoothly removed it from her grasp before she could take another sip.

“Excuse me,” she said, pointing to the departing goblet.

Ignoring her protest, he placed it on his table and returned with a bottle of water, which he opened and handed to her. “You're serious? It's possible?”