Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (44 page)

She raised herself upward and lifted her hips, lowering herself onto him in an excruciatingly drawn-out motion. The moment their bodies met, she uttered a soft moan. Her feminine noises coupled with her tempting heat had him gasping for breath.

She closed her eyes. He watched as myriad emotions shifted across her face. At that moment, he understood that he would never get enough of her, not ever.

With one smooth thrust, he entered her fully and filled her completely. Carly had never dreamed such a wash of emotions could accompany a physical act. Each time they came together was more explosive than the last.

She wondered if he felt it, too. She opened her eyes. As she gazed into the face she adored, she ran her fingers through his thick hair. In his golden eyes, she read every unspoken feeling she, herself, possessed. Words she’d never admit to aloud. He was right. She feared all they could have... feared having it and losing it at the same time.

This man reached inside her. He understood her without the need for words. He was her other half. And he would leave her soon. Because she loved him more than life itself, she would let him go. She pushed aside the doubt that assailed her, the niggling feeling that maybe they
could
work together toward a future.

Instead she draped herself across his chest, burying her face in the strong column of his neck. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. His slight growth of beard scraped the skin on her face. Cheek to cheek, she nestled closer. He smelled of the ocean and of Mike. With a cough, she managed to choke back a sob.

He began to move beneath her. Each upward thrust was an expression of love, one she felt in every part of her body. She matched his motions until their surroundings faded and only they remained.

As he shuddered beneath her, she held him close. She kissed him as her own world erupted in a too brief but brilliant mixture of passion and love.

* * *

Carly’s head rested on Mike’s chest. Her hair tickled his nose and each breath he took was scented with vanilla.

“Let’s go out for a late-night snack,” Mike suggested.

“Don’t you think we’re a little underdressed?” Carly asked wryly.

He glanced down and grimaced. Her dress was hiked to mid-thigh and her bare legs were entwined with his. He was stark naked. For the first time he realized how little thought he had given to Carly. He hadn’t bothered to undress her, let alone spared a moment to see if she’d been truly ready.

His only excuse was his driving need to block out her question. The time was fast approaching when he’d have to make a decision, whether his boss called or not. He couldn’t keep running. Unmet obligations awaited him and the longer he stayed here, the longer he allowed himself the luxury of being with Carly, the harder it was to go back.

“Mike, that was a joke. What’s wrong?” she asked, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him.

“Nothing.”
Everything.
“Let’s get out of here for a while. We’ve spent too much damn time in the house.”

“Cabin fever already?” She drew herself to a sitting position and smoothed her skirt over her thighs.

“Not at all. But I thought you might like to go out. Like a real couple.” A dangerous dream, he thought. One that had but a slight chance of coming true.

“Oh. Sure.” Her words were right, but they lacked feeling. She pushed her bangs off her forehead, a sure sign of trouble ahead.

He couldn’t pinpoint the source of her anxiety, but he sensed it anyway.

“If we’re going, I’d better shower.” Bracing her hands against the floor, she started to rise.

“Hold it.”

“What?”

“You tell me. One minute everything’s fine and the next you’ve turned back into the old compliant Carly. What’s bugging you?”

She turned, her normally expressive eyes blank. A haunted look shadowed her features. “Not a thing. Just tell me when you’re ready to go,” she said with patently false cheer and a forced smile.

Why did he suspect she was referring to a lot more than dinner?

D
inner was a strained event that Carly could have done without. Even the casual intimacy of the Mexican restaurant hadn’t relaxed the tension. After her initial hesitation, she no longer doubted Mike’s sincerity. She believed he genuinely wanted to spend an evening out rather than needing an escape from the restlessness she feared he’d begun to feel. But regardless of his reasons, she sensed their relationship inching toward its inevitable conclusion.

Though she understood Mike’s inability to stick around, and though she’d expected it, waves of panic rippled through her anyway.

She clutched her water glass in an effort to stop the trembling in her hands. Thoughts of their earlier lovemaking did nothing to soothe her. Each of them had been frantic, as if they’d sensed that this time might be the last. For all she knew, it might have been.

“Dessert?” His deep voice intruded on her unpleasant thoughts. He held out a large plastic menu.

Like a peace offering, she accepted it and vowed to appreciate whatever time they had left “After that vanilla shake you expect me to eat dessert?” She scanned the back page. “Fried ice cream sounds good,” she said to the waiter, and licked her lips in anticipation.

Mike’s burst of laughter broke the simmering tension that had surrounded them all evening. “I’m still hungry,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Guess you worked up an appetite.” His eyes gleamed with unchecked desire.

“Guess so.” She swallowed hard. “Which means I’ll just have to work it off later.”

He treated her to a sexy grin. “You bet you will.”

So she still had more time. How much? she wondered.

She felt like she was in possession of a time bomb, with the detonator ready to go off at any minute. Yes, she feared the moment in which he walked out of her life for good. But Mike was right. She also feared the consequences if they stayed together, feared he’d lose interest—or worse, that she would betray him. Although, looking at this man seated across from her, she doubted she’d ever be tempted to search elsewhere. What more could she possibly want?

So where did all her uncertainty leave her? she wondered. She glanced up. With a bowl of fried ice cream. The waiter cleared his throat and Carly moved her arm to make room for the luscious dessert. Caramel dripped over the sides. She cracked into the hard outer shell with a spoon, digging deep for the vanilla inside. Concentrating on her dish enabled her to escape reality and she took full advantage.

She placed the spoon between her lips, closed her eyes and savored the flavor. “Mmm.”

Just like the cotton candy at Playland, Mike thought “Do you make eating food an erotic experience on purpose?” he asked. “Or does it just come naturally?”

A rosy blush colored her cheeks. “For a minute I forgot I wasn’t alone.” Clearly embarrassed, she pushed the plate toward the center of the table.

He nudged it back. “Don’t mind me, I enjoy watching.” He adored her feminine curves and ability to enjoy life without censoring it, calories included.

She shrugged and dug the spoon back into the caramel for another bite.

“How’s the column coming?”

“Not bad. I finished next month’s questions and answers and faxed them over to the magazine.”

“What about the book?”

“Format’s done.” She paused for a sip of water. “Three distinct segments should work.”

“What are the topics?” He leaned back in his chair and eyed her intently.

“You’re really interested?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She bit down on her lower lip. “You could be just being polite.”

Beneath the table, he clenched his hands into tight fists. “I don’t do polite. Not for the hell of it anyway.”

She nodded. Blond strands of hair fell free from her loose braid and framed her face before she tucked them behind one ear. “I knew that.”

Did she? He silently cursed his brother’s reappearance since it had obviously brought back insecurities he thought she had let go. “But maybe I was just humoring you.”

“Were you?”

This time he cursed aloud. “Let’s get something straight. I don’t humor any more than I do polite. It’s condescending to us both.”

Her gaze dropped to her plate. The ice cream, he noticed, had begun to melt. “If I wasn’t interested, I wouldn’t have asked,” he said in a harsh voice meant to capture her attention.

It did. Her eyelids fluttered upward, and startled, her gaze met his. “Fine,” she said in just as clipped a tone as he’d used on her.

At least she was on the offensive, he thought. “And while we’re at it, I’d appreciate it if you’d remember one thing: I’m not Peter. I don’t act like him and I sure as hell don’t think like him.” His hand came down hard on the table, causing the water in both their glasses to slosh over the top.

She grinned. “Personally, I agree with you. And believe it or not, I appreciate the reminder.”

He let out a deep breath. The strain of this meal had begun to wear on him. Every possible emotion had passed between them and he was exhausted. He signaled for the check.

“Just one more bite.” Taking advantage of her last spoonful, Mike watched as she licked the utensil clean, running her tongue over the sticky caramel coating to remove every remaining bit.

Desire hit him hard. His exhaustion disappeared in the wake of physical need. As he shamelessly followed every movement, he wondered if he was destined to be in her spell forever. Every damn thing she made him feel was good. Even when there was trouble hovering between them, she made him feel alive. But so did taking pictures and capturing the world on film. At least it always had before. Why was the thought so much less appealing now? Mike sensed the answer had less to do with the painful episode in the Middle East and more to do with Carly.

Get out
, he thought.

While he still could.

He forced his gaze upward. Her beautiful brown eyes shimmered with amusement. “Want some?” she asked and dipped the spoon back into the half-melted ice cream.

He opened his mouth to answer and she hand-fed him the dessert. He wasn’t sure if the sweetness came from the gooey dish or the woman who gave it to him. “Incredible,” he said. His gaze locked with hers.

Reaching over, she wiped what must have been a trace of ice cream or caramel from his bottom lip. Her gentle touch finished him off.

He tossed his napkin down onto the table. “Let’s go.” With a glance at the check the waiter had placed on the edge of the table, he shoved his hand into his pocket and retrieved his wallet. He peeled off the bills and tossed them down.

The moment he stood, he was grateful for the dark lighting. His jeans were way too tight. Grasping her hand, he tugged and led her out of the restaurant and into the dark night.

The car was parked behind the restaurant, and thanks to the late hour that area of the parking lot had all but emptied out. Mike didn’t know how it happened. One minute he’d been leading her toward the car, the next he’d bracketed her body between the himself and the metal door.

Carly gazed up at him, hope and expectancy warring in her heart. She’d been sending out mixed signals all evening, she knew. But she wasn’t mixed up anymore. She wanted him for the time they had left. She licked at her dry lips.

And he wanted her. The hard erection pressed against her told her that.

He reached out and traced her moist lower lip with the pad of his finger. With his gaze never leaving hers, he placed his finger in his own mouth. “Sweet,” he whispered.

“It’s the caramel.” She gripped his waist with both hands. He was her anchor in so many different ways.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s you. You always taste sweet to me.”

A strange sensation gripped her chest. More emotional than physical, tears threatened to fall but she pushed them back. “You don’t do polite and you don’t humor me, but I do think you’re just saying that so you can get lucky.”

“Did it work?” Something about the hesitancy in his voice spoke to her. They’d been dancing around each other all night and for what? They understood each other too well, knew each other’s deepest fears.

They knew the end was coming.

“It would have worked without the sweet talk,” she murmured, grasping his face in both hands.

The kiss that came next was anything but sweet; in fact,
hot
was the only word that came to Carly’s mind before she became so engulfed with Mike that she didn’t want to think at all. She locked her leg around his ankle, securing him against her. The ridge of his arousal was firm and hard against her stomach and his warm breath fanned her neck as he trailed wet, seductive kisses down her collarbone. Cool air drifted over her damp skin, increasing the power of her desire.

He dipped the strap of her dress down over one shoulder and edged a fingertip above the swell of her breast. She exhaled, but a slow moan escaped instead. She anticipated his hot mouth on her breast, wanted his heated touch more than she wanted her next breath. And if the glazed but intense look in his eyes was any indication, she’d have it too. Carly closed her eyes, waiting, wanting...

A car horn honked and loud laughter sounded behind them. “Go for it, man.” A group of rowdy teenagers waved and gunned the engine, leaving dust in their wake.

“You sure you want to keep giving kids like that a helping hand?” Mike muttered. He leaned his head against hers, his breathing coming in harsh, labored gasps.

Carly wanted to be mortified, but she couldn’t suppress a laugh instead. “It’s either that or let them out on their own...”

He shook his head. “Carly...” His husky voice held promise.

The dead silence of the night surrounded them. Her pulse beat faster as she answered his unspoken question by placing her hand inside his. “Let’s go home.”

Minutes later they entered the house. By unspoken agreement, she followed him toward his room. The blinking light on the answering machine in the family room stopped her and she paused. Carly hit the play button.

She didn’t recognize the voice. She knew she wouldn’t. Yet as soon as the deep baritone sounded in the empty room, she wished she could hit rewind, or turn back the clock. Somehow, she knew.