My Man Pendleton (34 page)

"I'm not using any birth control," she told him. And she honestly didn't know if the remark was meant as a last-ditch effort to stop what was happening, or as a prelude to something else entirely. She couldn't think about that right now.

"I've got it covered," he assured her.

Involuntarily, she dropped her gaze downward, to a part of him that even now, she felt ripening against her.

"Well not at this exact moment," he said with a soft chuckle. "But I'll have it covered when the time comes."

He lowered his mouth to hers again. Then Kit forgot about everything in the world except Pendleton, and how he made her feel. She was totally unprepared when he bent and hooked one elbow behind her knees, then hauled her up into his arms and against his chest. Instinctively, she wrapped her own arms around his neck, and a little chuckle of sheer pleasure bubbled up from inside her.

"You're not really going to carry me up the stairs, are you?" she asked.

He smiled. "Oh, yeah."

"Just like Rhett?"

He cocked his head to the side. "What, you don't think I could pull it off?"

She eyed him playfully. "Well, fiddle-dee-dee, Pendleton. Rhett only had Scarlett to deal with. You, on the other hand
…
"

"I have the notorious Katherine Atherton McClellan," he finished for her. "Clearly, I'm the lucky one."

She chose not to respond to that. It would only mess with the fantasy. Instead, she tipped her forehead to rest it against his and closed her eyes. She didn't open them again until he'd crested the top step, and then only because she couldn't tolerate any longer not being able to look at him. So she looked her fill, noted the seductive curve of his smile, the unruly lock of hair that fell rebelliously over his brow, and the dark spark of passion that glittered in his eyes.

My man Pendleton,
she thought.
At least for tonight.

His gaze never left hers as he carried her effortlessly over the bedroom threshold, where the faint light of a bedside lamp gilded and gentled his features even more. He didn't stop moving until he stood beside the bed, and when Kit glanced down at it, she uttered a soft, derisive sound. She really should have made it the day before, she thought as she took in the pile of rumpled bedclothes. Ah, well. Just saved them that much trouble now, didn't it?

Silently, Pendleton released her legs so that they swung parallel to his own, but he didn't quite let go of her completely. Her toes only skimmed the floor as he wound his arms tightly around her waist, pulled her to him again, and touched his lips to hers.

There was a lot to be said for being tall enough to see almost eye to eye with a man, Kit thought just before letting hers flutter closed. Funny how she'd never noticed that before. Then Pendleton slanted his mouth more fully over hers, and she ceased to think at all.

With agonizing, exhilarating slowness, he lowered her body to the floor, pressing her against him from head to toe, so that she felt him everywhere—against her legs, her belly, her breasts, her mouth. She reached behind him to bunch his sweatshirt in both fists at the same time he lifted his hand to the top button of her shirt. They each chuckled at their single-mindedness, but neither halted the actions. Pendleton did pause to let Kit pull his sweatshirt over his head, but the garment remained caught around his forearms until he'd freed the last of her buttons. Only then did he step away long enough to toss his shirt to the floor.

And then, Kit could only stare at him, at the rich scattering of dark hair that decorated his entire torso, narrowing as it arrowed down to the waistband of his blue jeans, but never diminishing. Muscles roped and banded his shoulders and arms, bunching poetically as he settled his hands on his hips to observe her in return.

What on earth had she gotten herself into? She'd been with a total of one man in her entire life. And Michael hadn't come anywhere near Pendleton on the
hombre
scale. She strove for a deep breath, to steady her nerves and gather her thoughts, but all she managed was a thin little hiccup of air. At the tiny, defenseless sound, Pendleton's smile grew broader, more intent, more predatory. And she realized then that she was in for the night of her life.

For a moment, she thought he was going to tell her she was beautiful again, something that would totally destroy the mood, but he remained thankfully silent. Instead, he took a single step forward and reached for her, dipping a hand beneath each side of her shirt. Then he moved them slowly outward, until the garment skimmed over her shoulders and fell to the floor.

Instinctively, she crossed her arms over the wisp of lavender lace beneath, suddenly feeling modest for some reason. She'd crawled into bed naked with the man, she reminded herself. She'd invited him to witness her bath. But the stakes were so much higher now, the odds so much more uncertain.

"Don't," he said softly, curling his fingers around each of her wrists. "I want to see you."

She shook her head, but he ignored the gesture, tugging gently on her wrists until she unfolded her arms' again. The moment she did, he released one of her hands and cupped his fingers possessively over her breast. Just like that. No preparation, no warning, no preliminaries. He simply reached out and made her his own.

And Kit discovered quickly that she wanted him to possess the rest of her body as completely. As if reading her mind, he lifted his other hand to her other breast, and covered it just as masterfully.

A shock of heat erupted where he touched her, pooling in her heart, where it gathered strength before shooting out to warm every other part of her body. For a long moment, Pendleton only filled his hands with her, palming her sensitive flesh. Then, with the softest of touches, he skimmed his hands upward, under the straps of her bra. With a quick turn of his wrists, her straps fell down over her shoulders, and he hooked his fingers beneath them to push them down the rest of the way. Kit found herself bared for his perusal, her arms effectively trapped at her sides. Before she could voice a protest, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her breast.

He kissed her softly before drawing her deep into his mouth, laving her with the flat of his tongue, teasing her with the tip. She shuddered at the quickness in his change of pace. Then she took some initiative, reaching behind herself to unhook her bra and free her arms, so that she could bury her fingers in the silk of his hair and push him closer still. Eagerly, he followed her lead, curling the fingers of one hand beneath the lower curve of her breast, lifting it higher, for a more thorough maneuver.

Kit wasn't sure how it happened, but she vaguely registered the cool crush of flannel under her back, and she knew that they had somehow managed to find their way to the bed. She buried her heels against the mattress and pushed herself higher, an action that left Pendleton's mouth caressing her belly. To facilitate his endeavors, he gripped the waistband of her leggings in both hands and tugged downward, taking those, and her panties, and her socks in one easy motion.

And then she lay beneath him, naked, exposed, vulnerable. Strangely, though, she felt none of those things. She was, after all, covered by Pendleton, by his warmth, by his strength, by his tender, loving care.

When he tossed the last of her clothes to the floor, she expected him to return to his original position, and it took a moment for her to register the fact that he hadn't. When she glanced down to see where he was, she found him standing by the bed, one hand unhooking the top button of his jeans.

Oh, yes, she thought. He definitely needed to do that. It was no fun at all if only one of them was naked. Well, not nearly as
much
fun, at any rate.

"Hurry up," she whispered, surprised at the vehemence of her edict.

He smiled. "Now, now. We have plenty of time."

"Do we?" Somehow, she wasn't quite convinced.

But Pendleton seemed to be, because he nodded with much certainty. "Oh, yeah."

As if to illustrate his patience, he opened his jeans
verrrry
slowly, button by button by button, so that she heard the whisper of each as it pulled away from its fastening. When he completed the action, he spread the fabric open with another leisurely motion, then pushed the garment down slowly, slowly, slowly over his hips. Beneath, he wore a pair of gray flannel boxers, deceptively conservative, and in no way modest, seeing as how they did nothing to hide the extent of his arousal.

Kit chuckled low, the sound of a woman who was utterly and irretrievably turned on. "Are you going to take all night?" she asked.

He nodded. "Count on it."

But he seemed to become as impatient as she then, because he hastily shed both his blue jeans and boxers. When he stood, she caught her breath at the sight of him, a quick little intake of air whose hiss was unmistakable in the otherwise silent room.

Pendleton smiled. "You know," he said softly, "I don't think there's anything that turns a man on more than hearing his lover gasp when she sees the size of him. I'll try not to worry about the fact that you have almost nothing to compare me to, and just take it as a compliment, shall I?"

She nodded. "Most definitely." She didn't need to be an expert on the male anatomy to know that Pendleton was a man of measure. She only hoped she was enough woman to accommodate him.

"Come back to bed," she said simply. "Please."

He smiled again, and for the first time that she could recall, Pendleton did as she asked. He settled first one knee, and then the other, on the mattress, then bent down on all fours to make his way to the head of the bed, where she lay on her side, watching him. Somehow, she thought she knew how a small animal must feel just before a wolf trotted in to effortlessly carry it off, intent on enjoying it at his leisure.

The image stayed with her as Pendleton circled her ankle with strong fingers and tugged her down a bit. Then he curled his other hand around her knee and pushed her legs open wide. It took a moment for Kit to realize his intention, and when she did, she tried to clamp her legs together again. But Pendleton had already insinuated his hands and himself between her thighs, and he deftly opened her for his clearly growing appetite. Before she could utter a word in protest, he lowered his mouth to her, drawing an idle circle with his tongue before tasting her more deeply.

Kit went limp at the mind-numbing sensation that shot through her like a heat-seeking missile. She tangled her fingers in Pendleton's hair, ostensibly to urge him away, but she found that she only held his head fast in place, silently commanding him for more. And more. And more.

So he gave her more, over and over, laving her, loving her, teasing her, tasting her. And just when she thought she couldn't tolerate another moment, he moved back up her body, dragging his open mouth over her flat belly, dipping his tongue into her navel, treating each of her breasts to another slow perusal. He paused on his journey only long enough to fulfill his promise of protecting her, donning a condom he pulled from the nightstand. Then he rolled her over to her side and aligned his body behind hers. He splayed one hand open over her belly, the other across her breasts. Then he lowered his head until his mouth hovered right beside her ear.

"Are you ready for me?" he whispered. "Because I don't think I can wait any longer. I want to be inside you, Kit. Deep inside you. In every way either one of us can possibly imagine."

Somehow, she found the strength to nod, then she turned her head to kiss him. And as he consumed her mouth with his, Pendleton eased himself inside her.

"Oh," she murmured. "Oh, that's so good."

She thought he uttered a sound of agreement, but she couldn't be sure. Deeper and deeper he entered her from behind, his movements slow, steady, certain. Kit had never felt so full, so satisfied, so complete. Until Pendleton began to move inside her. Then she realized just how empty she'd been all this time. And she knew, too, that the void was one she would never be able to fill again without him.

He moved his body up and down against hers, in and out of hers, alongside hers, until she thought she would burst with the fullness. Then, just when she felt herself approaching that elusive edge, he shifted their bodies so that she lay beneath him.

"I want to see your face when it happens," he said softly. "And I want you to see mine."

Then deftly, swiftly, he entered her again, even more resolutely than before, doubling his rhythm. Over and over, faster and faster, deeper and deeper, he moved inside her, until both of them were nearly insensate with the wanting, the longing, the needing. At exactly the same time that Kit felt the coil of heat inside her explode, Pendleton pelted her with one final thrust. Then both of them arched against each other, stilling as ripples of absolute pleasure wound through them.

For one long, silent moment, they only clung to each other, as if doing so would preserve their union forever. Then Kit drove her fingers into Pendleton's hair and pulled his head down to hers for an almost brutal kiss.

I love you,
she thought, and by some wild miracle, she kept the words locked deep inside.
I love you.

When he pulled away from her to speak aloud whatever he was feeling, she quickly, gently, covered his mouth with her fingers and shook her head. "Don't," she whispered. "Don't say anything."

"But—"