Seduced and Betrayed (8 page)

"Coke, I guess."

"Two Cokes." He reached into the refrigerator and snagged the bottles by the neck. Resting first one, then the other, firmly against the edge of the counter, he rapped the neck of each bottle with the heel of his hand and popped off the caps. "Do you want a glass?"

Ariel shook her head. "The bottle's fine."

Zeke grinned. "Good choice. I don't think any of the glasses are particularly clean. Jack's on KP this week," he said, reaching past her to hold aside the strands of beads that filled the doorway. "After you."

Ariel smiled nervously and sidled past him. The beads fell back into place as he followed her into the living room. "Sit down?" he invited, gesturing toward the sagging madras-covered sofa.

"Okay," she said softly and sat down, smack-dab on the middle cushion.

Zeke smiled to himself. It was a signal. If she was thinking of changing her mind, she'd have chosen one of the beanbag chairs or sat on one of the end cushions of the sofa. But the middle... well, that left him plenty of room on either side of her. He put his unwanted Coke on the coffee table, sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

She shot him a quick, nervous look out of the corner of her eye and then looked back down at the bottle of soda clutched between her hands. But she didn't move away.

He bent his head and kissed her bare shoulder.

She took a tiny sip of her soda and refused to look at him.

He ran his fingertip down her arm.

She shivered, tightening her grasp on the bottle, but still wouldn't look at him.

He transferred his touch to her knee, running his fingertips lightly, delicately, up the top of her white-stockinged thigh to the hem of her little yellow dress and back down again.

She gasped and closed her eyes. And didn't move.

"Ariel?"

"What?"

"Are you afraid?"

"No," she lied.

"Have you changed your mind?"

"No."

"Then would you look at me, please?"

Slowly, shyly, she turned her head against his arm and looked at him. Her blue eyes were wide and wondering and just a little bit frightened, despite what she'd said.

"You know I won't hurt you, don't you?" Zeke whispered.

"I know," she whispered back.

"We'll go slow. As slow as you want. And we'll stop whenever you say," he promised. "You don't ever have to be afraid of me."

"I'm not. Really." She smiled tremulously, trying to reassure him. "I'm just a little nervous, is all."

"So am I," Zeke admitted.

That seemed to surprise and please her. "Really? Why?"

"I've never made love to a virgin before. What if I mess it up for you? Or do something you don't like?"

"I don't know what I like yet. Except when you kiss me," she hinted, emboldened by his admission of vulnerability. "I like that."

Zeke felt something in his gut tighten. "Are you going to drink that Coke?"

In answer, Ariel leaned forward and placed it on the coffee table next to his. And then she leaned back against his arm and tilted her face up to his, inviting his kiss.

Zeke reached up, his hand trembling slightly, and brushed back the soft blond hair at her temple. "You're incredible, do you know that?" he said softly, awed by the trust she'd placed in him just by being there. He knew it couldn't have been easy for her. "Incredibly sweet." He threaded his fingers through the silken length of her hair, lifting it away from her head and letting it drift back down, a few strands at a time. "Incredibly beautiful. I think I'm falling in love with you."

"You don't have to say that." Her voice was soft and sweet, her eyes wide and serious. "I don't want you to pretend to feel something you don't."

"I'm not pretending," he said truthfully, a little stunned to hear himself say it. "I really do think I'm in love with you."

"Really?" she breathed.

"Really," he said and bent his head to kiss her.

She opened her mouth for him immediately, exactly the way she'd learned to in their stolen moments on the set. He claimed it with his tongue, gently teasing hers, trying to beguile her into making demands of her own. But she was acquiescent and shy, still unused to physical intimacy, and he couldn't wait for her to respond more emphatically. He deepened his possession of her mouth, leaning over her, pressing her head back against his encircling arm, letting his free hand drift down the side of her face and her shoulder to lightly, lightly cover her breast.

Ariel sighed against his lips and lifted her arm to encircle his neck, pulling herself closer and tacitly giving him permission to go further. Zeke took what she offered, cupping his fingers around her breast to test its weight and contour. He brushed his thumb back and forth over the tip, seeking the nipple through the thick layer of yellow cotton pique and the fabric of her bra. Finding it, he circled it gently, plucking at it with his fingertips until she moaned and arched against his hand.

"I think we found something else you like," he murmured, his voice rich with satisfaction and pleasure. He loosened his hold on her a bit, letting his fingers drift to the row of big white buttons running down the front of her dress. "You might like it even more if we opened these."

There was a moment's silence and then she said softly, "Okay," and he could feel her lips move against his neck.

He shifted against her eagerly, needing to use both hands to slip the oversize buttons from their buttonholes. "Lift your head a little, sweetheart, so I can see what I'm doing here," he instructed, using the back of one hand to brush a thick sheaf of her waist-length hair out of the way as he spoke.

And Ariel obediently lifted her head, making it easier for him to get at her buttons. "I think I'm in love with you, too," she blurted.

Zeke looked up, arrested in midmotion, his hands still busy with her buttons. "You don't have to say that, either, you know," he told her. "It isn't required."

"No, I mean it," Ariel said. "I think I... that is, I've never felt this way before. My heart's pounding so hard and it hurts to breathe and..."

He smiled. "It might not be love, you know, sweetheart," he warned her. "It might just be sex."
And a little bit of fear mixed in,
he thought.

Ariel blushed and looked away.

Zeke put his hand under her chin, turning her face back to his. "Sex is okay, Ariel. No matter what anyone's told you before. Sex is healthy and natural."

"Even without love?"

"Sure, even without love. I'm not saying you should do this with just anyone," he added quickly, just in case she misunderstood and thought he was giving her free rein. "You should care about the person. A lot. A whole lot," he emphasized. "But you don't have to be in love." He leaned forward and kissed her, then let her go to finish with the buttons. "I've heard it's better when you're in love but I wouldn't know from personal experience." He looked up suddenly and grinned. "Maybe I'll find out today, huh?"

"Maybe we'll both—" she began but he was no longer listening.

The buttons down the front of her dress were all undone and he pushed the two halves of the yellow pique fabric aside to reveal what lay beneath. She was long and lean and exquisite under her expensive, fashionable clothes. Her breasts were small and conical beneath her white lace bra. Her hips were narrow, the rounded bones on either side prominent beneath the sheer white fabric of her panty hose. The downy mound at the juncture of her thighs was covered by a swatch of white lace no bigger than a handkerchief. He cupped his hands around her small breasts, lifting them, and bent his head to kiss the cleavage he'd created. Ariel stiffened and lifted her hands to his hair, sinking her fingers into the thick, shaggy curls to hold him there.

They stayed like that for a sweet endless moment—Zeke with his mouth pressed against the fragile skin between her breasts, and Ariel with her hands fisted in his hair and her eyes closed. Then he raised his head and she opened her eyes and they smiled at each other.

"I think we'd better take this into the bedroom," Zeke suggested softly. He stood and held out his hand to her. "We'll be more comfortable in there."

She put her hand trustingly in his and let him pull her to her feet. Then, one hand holding the front of her dress closed, she walked with him into the bedroom.

There were two double beds, one pushed against each wall, with a folding Chinese paper screen partially opened between them. The side of the room Zeke led her to was at least nominally neat. The bed was made, with a plain navy blue blanket and white percale cases on the pillows. A pierced-brass Indian drum table sat beside it, holding a single lamp and a paperback book. Two framed vintage movie posters graced the otherwise bare walls above the bed.

Letting go of her hand, Zeke hurriedly grabbed up the rumpled clothes lying in a heap on the floor and tossed them into the wicker chest at the foot of his bed, then pulled the paper screen out to its full length, hiding the messy other half of the room from view. The textured paper screen filtered the light coming in through the single uncurtained window, softening it to a gentle dappled glow, like sunlight shining through water.

While Zeke tidied the room, Ariel sat down on the edge of his bed and removed her shoes. Setting them neatly aside, she stood and reached for the waistband of her panty hose. She stopped suddenly, pausing with the fabric pushed down around her hips, and looked up at him with a shy smile. "Don't watch," she said.

Zeke tore his fascinated gaze away and turned around, giving her his back. He could hear her rustling around behind him and imagined each garment slipping from her body; the gossamer sheer panty hose as she pushed them down her long legs; the expensive designer dress as she slipped it off her shoulders; the white lace bra as she reached behind her to unfasten it; the delicate swatch of fabric that shielded her woman's secrets. And then he heard the quick flurry of her bare feet against the hardwood floor and the squeak of the bed-springs.

"You can look now," she said breathlessly.

And he turned to see her snuggled down in his bed with her glorious hair spread out on his pillow and the navy blue blanket pulled up to her chin. She'd folded her dress over the wicker trunk at the foot of the bed, her panty hose and underwear tucked modestly out of sight beneath it.

Without a word, he reached up behind him, grabbed a handful of his T-shirt and yanked it off over his head. Dropping it carelessly on the floor, he propped one foot, and then the other, on the edge of the bed to remove his tan suede desert boots. They each hit the floor with a thud. Zeke straightened and reached for the button fly front of his bell-bottom jeans. Ariel watched, fascinated, as he slowly popped each metal button in turn. And he watched her watch, his gaze on her face, drinking in her innocent fascination. And then he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans.

Ariel squeezed her eyes shut.

"You can look," Zeke said, his voice a low growl. "I want you to."

Ariel opened her eyes a tiny crack, peeking at him through her lashes as he pushed his jeans and Jockey shorts down his narrow hips. She gasped as his erection sprang free, and her eyes opened wide.

Zeke grinned, pleased by her reaction. "Don't look so scared, sweetheart. It'll fit. I promise." He reached for the corner of the blanket, then paused, remembering one more thing that had to be taken care of before he climbed into bed beside her. "Are you on the Pill?"

Ariel flushed with embarrassment. "No, I... ah..."

"It's all right," he assured her. "I didn't think you were but I wanted to make sure. I'll take care of it." And then he lifted the blankets and slid into bed beside her.

Her body was cool and slim as he took her into his arms. Her mouth was warm and eager beneath his. There were shy hesitations and excited exclamations at each new stage of their lovemaking. She stayed his hand when he first moved to pull the covers down to her waist and then, a few moments later, she pushed the blankets away herself as he burrowed beneath them to caress her breasts with his mouth. She pressed her legs together at the first tentative touch of his fingers, and then sighed and let her thighs fall open as he gently rubbed his palm against her woman's mound.

Soon she was moving against his hand, her head turning restlessly on the pillow, her back arched as she searched for that elusive something that hovered just beyond her reach. Zeke worked his fingers between her slender thighs, delicately circling the entrance to her body, dipping into her growing moistness to lubricate the little nub of flesh that throbbed to his touch. He could feel her climax approaching, could tell by the way she unconsciously stiffened her body and the panting little cries that came from deep in her throat, that she was balancing on the knife-edge of the ultimate pleasure. He inserted two fingers into her, deeply, and spread them wide, at the same time pressing his thumb against her clitoris. She plummeted over the edge with a ragged cry, exploding into passionate release like a rocket.

Zeke held her tight while she rode it out and then lifted himself over her body, settling his hips between her thighs, pressing the engorged head of his condom-sheathed penis against the moist, swollen folds of her untried body.