Tall Tales and Wedding Veils (19 page)

“You feel so good, Heather. I want to touch you everywhere at once.”

Lost in the feeling, she dropped her head back against his shoulder, wishing that were anatomically possible. He spent what seemed like forever just touching her, his big, strong hands moving over her body, his lips moving over her neck, as if she was his to do with as he pleased. But she needed more. She needed him to be as naked as she was. She needed to touch him. She needed to move on with this very, very soon or she was going to melt away into a red-hot puddle of goo.

“Tony—”

“Shhh.”

She squirmed against him, but he held her tightly.

“I’m naked,” she said, breathing hard. “You’re not.”

“That’s because I’m not finished with this yet.”

“When will you be finished?”

“I’ll let you know.”

“But I want . . .”

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He pinched her nipples lightly, then rolled them between his fingers, nipping at her earlobe at the same time.

Oh, God. He was killing her. More. She wanted more. More, more, more!
Now!

With a sudden gasping breath, she turned around. “Take your clothes off.”

Tony drew back with feigned surprise. “Are you sure? Right now?”

“Yes,
now!
”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tony grabbed his T-shirt by the back of the neck, yanked it off, and slung it aside. In seconds, the rest of his clothes had hit the floor, too.

For a moment, all she could do was stare at him in awe, cursing the fact that he’d blown out the candles and she couldn’t see him as clearly as she would have liked. She could almost feel her pupils expand, trying to take in more of him.

He pulled her to the bed, where he stretched out beside her and gave her a leisurely kiss, smoothing his hand over her abdomen. Then he moved his hand lower. Then lower still, until the heel of his hand was resting on her pubic bone. She tensed, holding her breath, and a moment later, he stroked his fingertips between her legs.

No!

She grabbed his hand, stilling it. He looked up, frowning. “What’s the matter?”

“It . . .”

“What?”

“Tickles.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

He moved his hand to her thigh, caressing her there for a moment until she relaxed again, then moved his fingers back. He pressed them to her and rubbed in little circles, but it wasn’t long before she gasped and clutched his hand again.

“Oh, God,” she said. “I’m sorry. That still . . .”

“Tickles.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe we’d better go about this differently.”

“No. It’ll be okay this time. Really. I’ll concentrate. Do it again. Maybe harder or something.”

He touched her again more firmly, this time kissing her deeply. Heather squeezed her eyes closed and bunched the sheet in her fist, but she couldn’t help it. She squirmed away from him again, laughing this time. “Stop.
Stop!
”

He sat up, throwing his hands in the air. “These are my moves, Heather! They’re supposed to leave you gasping for air! Begging for more! You’re giving me a
complex!
”

She giggled.

“And now you’re laughing.
God.
” He turned and flopped down on his back. “Well, now you’ve done it. I am
not
in the mood anymore.”

“Not in the mood?” She glanced down at the contradictory evidence between his legs. “Tony, somebody could shoot you dead and bury you six feet under, and you’d
still
be in the mood.”

“That’s residual. From the moment right before you attacked my performance.”

She laughed. “
Attacked
your
performance?
”

“You know how big my ego is. And you just shot it to pieces. To
pieces,
Heather.” He sighed dramatically. “I’ll never be able to have sex again.”

“Oh, you poor thing. Sure you will.”

“No,” he said sadly. “I won’t. You’ve wounded me for
life.
”

She gave him a sly smile. “What would it take for me to convince you that your sexuality isn’t gone forever?”

He shrugged and turned away with a hurt expression.

She leaned in and whispered against his ear, “I have an idea.”

He flicked his gaze back to her.

She sat up beside him. “What I want you to do first,” she said, running her hand from his shoulder to his wrist, “is put both of your hands behind your head. Beneath the pillow.”

With exaggerated reluctance, he did as she said. “I don’t know what good this is going to do.”

“Oh, you’ll see in a minute.” She leaned in again, kissed him on the neck, and whispered, “Now, close your eyes.”

His eyes drifted closed. She let her gaze drift down that beautiful body and back up again, watching it go rigid with anticipation. She rose to her knees, letting her hands hover over his chest . . .

And tickled his armpits.

His eyes sprang open. He yanked his arms from beneath the pillow and grabbed for her. Laughing, she squirmed away, but he caught her arm, pulled her back, and pinned her to the mattress.

“Why, you rotten, conniving little—”

“Tony! You’re not attacking my performance, are you?”

“You’re as crazy as I am. Don’t you
ever
try to say you’re not!”

“I am
not
crazy!” she said. “If I were crazy, I’d have tied you up and
then
tickled you.”

“Now that’s a hell of a good idea. Only you’re going to be on the receiving end of it.”

“Uh-oh. I’m out of here.”

She tried to squirm away again, but he grabbed her and pulled her back. She squealed and started to laugh again, and then he was laughing, too, and then he was kissing her and they laughed some more, and then he extinguished the laughter completely with a long, slow, blistering kiss that melted the fight right out of her. The endorphin rush was almost more than she could bear. Tony was something she’d never imagined a man like him could be—sweet and kind and funny—and she wished she hadn’t waited so long to be with him like this.

She pushed him to his back again, tracing her fingertip along his jaw. “How about if I do it for real this time?”

“I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

As Tony lay back, Heather felt like a starving woman at a smorgasbord—she didn’t know where to start first. But she had the feeling that whatever she did, wherever she kissed him, however she touched him, she couldn’t mess things up.

She explored his body in a way she’d never done with a man before, finding all kinds of places that elicited a groan here, a sigh there. With every kiss, every touch, his arousal seemed to grow. Soon she got up the nerve to close her hand around his penis, feeling the length and width of him.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he said, his voice hot and breathy. “Touch me.”

He seemed to be waiting for her to do something specific, but the sex she’d known so far had been fast and fumbling without much of a chance for experimentation.

“I don’t exactly know how,” she whispered.

She felt really dumb saying that, but since she’d already confessed her lack of experience, she figured this was a good time to get rid of some of the ignorance no woman her age should have. Tony closed his palm over her hand and showed her what he wanted, and then she was stroking him up and down, over and over, loving the feel of him beneath her hand, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his breath came faster. Eventually she felt bold enough lean in and kiss the head of his penis. He sucked in a breath, his body going rigid.

“Is that okay?” she said suddenly.

“Oh, yeah,” he said as he exhaled. “Trust me. It’s all good.”

She closed her mouth over the tip, then pulled back. When she saw his fingertips curl into the mattress, she took him deeper into her mouth, then pulled back, circling her tongue around the head as she stroked the shaft. She did it over and over, going a little deeper each time.

She heard his sharp, ragged breathing, and when she flicked her gaze up, she saw a sheen of sweat on his chest and his eyes squeezed closed and his hands clasping the sheet, and suddenly she didn’t feel like the same awkward, clueless woman she’d been just a short time ago. She was a woman who could give as much pleasure as she received, and it made her feel powerful in a way she never had before.

Okay,
she thought with a little bit of elation,
this is good. I can do this.

Then all at once he let out a soft groan and sat up, taking her by the shoulders and pressing her back on the bed again.

She looked up at him with distress. “Was I doing something wrong?”

“Sweetheart, it doesn’t get much more right than what you were doing. Which means if you keep it up, this is going to be over way sooner than I want it to be.”

And then he was touching her again, and to her surprise, her ticklishness was long gone. He slid his fingers deep inside her, then moved them back up again to circle over her clitoris. If she was writhing this time, it was only to ask for more, to
beg
for more. The tension he created seemed to pull her tighter and tighter, her whole body trembling with need.

Oh, God.
There it was. A tiny spark deep inside her. A soft, involuntary moan rose in the back of her throat, and soon her breathing turned into short, sharp gasps. He drove her higher and higher, then higher still, until the whole world finally exploded in a burst of sensation.

Before she knew it, Tony had the condom on and was moving between her legs. He plunged inside her with sharp, heavy thrusts, his breath scorching hot against her neck. It seemed as if only seconds passed before his body went rigid, and then he fell forward and clung to her with a fierce groan.

Heather had never felt anything like it.

As they rode out the last waves of pleasure together, she relished the feeling of Tony’s body on hers, the brush of his hair along her cheek, the wild beating of his heart against her chest. She clung to him as tightly as he clung to her, until the last tremors died away and she could finally breathe again.

After a moment, he fell away from her, hitting the mattress with a soft thud of satisfaction. His chest expanded with a deep breath, settling down again as he slowly let it out.

Then he turned to look at her.

Their eyes locked, and Heather had the sense of something meaningful passing between them. In those few moments, she imagined what it would be like if he really were her husband. If they weren’t just having sex, but making love. She felt as if she were under some kind of spell that had transported her into the future, a future where she woke up with Tony every morning of her life.

Then a smile slowly spread across his face. “That,” he said, still breathing hard, “was a hell of a lot of fun.”

And the spell was gone.

Recreational sex,
she reminded herself. Like playing golf. Only naked. In bed. With no clubs or golf course. Pure entertainment. Nothing else was included, nor would it ever be.

“Fair warning,” he said. “I intend to get you back. Next time it’s fur-lined handcuffs and a feather for you. And there
will
be a next time.”

This was dangerous in so many ways. She’d never been wowed by a guy in bed before. That was doing some serious damage to her logical, orderly mind. But as long as she remembered who she was dealing with, she’d be okay. Tony wasn’t good for her. In the long run, he wasn’t good for any woman. But in the short run . . .

There wasn’t anybody better.

“I think you were right,” she said offhandedly. “It’s dumb for either of us to be . . . deprived.”

“Exactly. We don’t want that. Deprivation is a bad thing. While we’re together, we’ll be together.”

“And when it’s over, it’s over.”

“But think of the fun we’ll have in the meantime.” He grinned. “Come here, Goldilocks.”

He dragged her to him and kissed her again, reminding her just how sweet and tender and seductive he could be, like a sexual Pied Piper driving her right over the cliff. And she was closing her eyes and making the leap.

Chapter 17

W
hen Tony awoke the next morning, the bed beside him was empty. He felt disoriented for a moment, wondering where Heather was. He rolled over and looked at the clock. Ten after nine. Then he remembered that this was Monday morning, which meant she’d probably left a couple of hours ago for work, and he’d slept right through it.

He thought about last night and couldn’t help smiling. Heather was nearly thirty years old, but she’d had sex only two
and a half
times? Good Lord. What had he gotten himself into? Any woman who was that inexperienced generally had him running the other way. But Heather . . .

The last thing he’d expected was for her to show up naked in his bed. Then the tickling thing. He’d teased that she had a wild woman inside just waiting to get out, but he hadn’t known just how right he was. Against all odds, he knew now that in order to stay one step ahead of her, he was going to have to stay on his toes.

Which led him to another thought.

He got up from the bed and dug through his dresser drawers. When he found what he was looking for in the third drawer down beneath a pile of boxer shorts, he smiled. So Heather liked surprises, did she?

She hadn’t seen anything yet.

Heather spent the morning in her cubicle, drinking coffee, trudging through balance sheets, and answering questions about her hair. No, she hadn’t had it permed. Yes, it was this way naturally. And no, she didn’t have a clue how a person could get hair like hers if they hadn’t been born with it.

By midmorning, she was on her fourth cup of coffee, trying to keep her eyes open and her body functioning. It had been all she could do to drag herself out of bed this morning. Mostly that was because she was dead tired after being up half the night. But it was also because she’d had such a hard time taking her eyes off Tony.

She lay her pencil down for a moment and closed her eyes, thinking about how he’d been sprawled on his stomach this morning, the sheet pulled up to his hips. The faint morning sun filtering through the blinds had cast his skin in a golden glow, highlighting his lean, muscled back. She hadn’t seen that many naked male bodies close up, but the few she had seen didn’t even come close to being as beautiful as Tony’s.

She’d finally forced herself out of bed, taken a shower, and thrown on a robe, only to curse that beautiful man when she realized she still didn’t have a flatiron and was going to be forced to wear her naturally curly hair to work. She’d have to get him back for that. She just didn’t know how. Shave him bald as he slept, maybe? It would be drastic but effective. He’d think twice about rummaging through her drawers and stealing things next time, now, wouldn’t he?

Unfortunately, he was just insane enough to retaliate with something worse.

Heather heard her text message tone. She grabbed her phone and saw a message from Alison.
Lunch? Downtown Deli? Noon?

Heather punched in
OK,
and Alison responded with
You’re telling all.

An hour later, Heather walked into the Downtown Deli and slid into a booth across from Alison.

“Okay,” Alison said, her eyes lit up with anticipation. “Tell me all about it. And don’t leave anything out.”

“Alison? Do you think we could order lunch first?”

“Hey!” Alison said to the waiter, who jumped with surprise. “We’re ready now!”

The waiter came over. Alison ordered the hot pastrami sandwich that Heather wished she could have, and Heather ordered a salad. Again. Dressing on the side. Yuk.

“Okay,” Alison said. “Spill it. Tell me everything.”

Heather thought for a minute. “Hmm. It’s hard to put into words.”

“Heather,” Alison said sharply. “Find the words. Sexy. Erotic. Seductive. Steamy. Captivating. Hot. Romantic. Pick a few, add some verbs, and string it all together for me in some kind of meaningful way.”

“One word works.”

“Which is?”

“He was . . . sweet.”

Alison screwed up her face. “Sweet?”

“I guess you had to be there.”

“That’s all you can say about it? That he was
sweet?
”

“No, that’s not all I could say. It’s all I’m
going
to say.”

“Heather, you can’t do this to me. You can’t—” She stopped short, looking skeptical. “You didn’t do it with him, did you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Then why won’t you tell me about it? We’ve told each other everything since junior high. You can’t stop now.”

The truth was that it really
was
hard to put into words. “Those adjectives you mentioned . . . they’re all kind of givens, you know? What I didn’t expect was . . .”

“What?”

A smile made its way across Heather’s face. “How much fun it was going to be.”

“Fun? No. In my experience, sex is serious business.”

“Not the way Tony goes about it,” Heather said, and her smile just got bigger.

Alison sat back and eyed her carefully. “Heather? Are you falling for him?”

“No. But now I know why women do.”

“Yeah, they fall for them, and then he breaks their hearts. You can’t fall for him, or he’ll break yours, too.”

“My heart’s going to stay perfectly intact.”

“You say that now, but you have a few more weeks to go. Are you going to be sleeping together again?”

“It looks that way.”

“Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

Heather slumped with frustration. “Will you make up your mind? First you wanted me to sleep with him, and now you don’t?”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Stop worrying about me, will you? I know what I’m doing.”

“I know you do. I just want to make sure.” Alison sighed. “So that’s all you’re going to tell me about the experience?”

“Yeah,” Heather said, still feeling the glow. “I think it is.”

“Okay. See if I tell you about my dates from now on.” She rolled her eyes. “You know. My ball-scratching nose-blowers.
God.
”

The waiter brought their food. Alison dug into her sandwich, and Heather picked at her salad.

“How’s the diet going?” Alison said.

“Lousy. Tony made me eat butter.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Are you going to eat all those chips?”

“Take as many as you want.”

She wanted all of them. Plus a sandwich to go with them. And maybe some potato salad on the side. And strawberry cheesecake for dessert.

The only thing that stopped her from placing that order was the prospect of standing at the altar at Regina’s wedding and exploding right out of that horrible pink dress. Tony would look gorgeous in his tuxedo, and she’d look like a fat freak of nature. Because of the dress, she couldn’t do much about the freak-of-nature part, but at least she could try her best not to be a fat one.

Heather spent the evening with her computer in her lap, working on the database for the grand-opening invitations. She incorporated the rest of Tony’s address book, then farmed contact information from Plano and Dallas food and entertainment web sites. If she could get a couple of reporters to write nice articles about the place, it would go a long way toward growing Tony’s customer base and insuring that every night would be as busy as the first night she’d worked there. She couldn’t print the invitations, though, since her printer was still in a box at her parents’ house, but she could take them on a disk to Tony’s office and print them there.

She also checked out the directories on the Web that listed local bars and restaurants and discovered the former owner had never listed McMillan’s. She made a note do that as soon as she could get some good digital photos.

And a web site. They needed a web site. There wasn’t any business on earth that couldn’t benefit from one of those.

About ten o’clock, her stomach started to growl, but she forced herself to ignore it. Twenty minutes later, it started in again. She thought about Tony’s Twinkies and chips in the pantry.

No. The dress. Remember the dress.

At ten thirty, she finally closed her computer and lay down on the sofa, thinking it might be wise to take a nap. She had no idea how late she’d be up after Tony came home, and if she wanted to be worth a damn at work tomorrow, she needed to grab some sleep from somewhere.

Shortly before midnight, her phone rang, waking her from a sound sleep. She rose on one elbow, grabbed it, and looked at the caller ID. She smiled and hit the
TALK
button.

“Hey,” she said. “How are things going there?”

“Had a good night. But that’s not what I’m thinking about right now. I was thinking about what I’m going to find in my bed when I get home.”

“Maybe the same thing as last night?”

“Sweetheart, that’s exactly what I had in mind. See you soon.”

She disconnected the call, then sat back on the sofa, closed her eyes, and tried to imagine what he might have in store for her tonight. A few weeks ago, she couldn’t have predicted anything like this. Living with Tony.
Sleeping
with Tony. She’d told him that when it was over, it was over, and she meant it, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to enjoy it while it lasted.

A few minutes later, she’d tucked herself into Tony’s bed, surrounded by candlelight. And this time the candles were going to stay lit, because she was through being uptight about this. As long as it lasted, she was determined to throw out every bit of self-consciousness and live it up.

It wasn’t long before she heard the front door open and close, and when Tony came into the room and saw her in his bed, the smile he gave her made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world.

“Good,” he said. “You’re right where I want you. Don’t move.”

Heather settled back with a sigh of contentment. She had no intention of going anywhere.

He pulled his wallet out of his hip pocket and tossed it on the dresser, along with his watch. He walked slowly toward the bed, crawled up on it, straddled her hips, and laced his fingers through hers. He pushed her hands to the bed on either side of her head, then leaned down and gave her a long, delicious kiss. Heather practically melted into the mattress.

“Last night,” he said, a smile playing across his lips, “you got just a
little
bit out of line.”

“Yes,” she said smugly. “I did, didn’t I?”

“And I believe I told you what I was going to do about that.”

Her smug expression faded. “What?”

Before she knew what was happening, he’d scooted one of her hands down and placed his knee gently but firmly against her forearm. Still holding her other hand, he quickly reached between the mattress and the headboard, pulled something out, and clicked it onto her wrist.

Handcuffs?