Ooh, La La!, page 18
He leaned over and kissed her again and again, his tongue tantalizing her, filling her with the taste of him. At length he shifted onto his side and reached for the buttons of her shirt. She reached up to help him, but he stilled her hand.
“Let me,” he murmured. “I’ve wanted to undress you ever since we met.”
The words set her on fire. A throbbing ache burned low in her belly as slowly, slowly, he unfastened first one button, then another, stopping to kiss the exposed skin each movement revealed. His breath fanned over her skin, warm and moist and tantalizing, down, down, down until the last button gave way and her shirt fell open, revealing her sheer black bra. He reached for the clasp between her breasts and gently unfastened it.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “So beautiful.”
Beautiful. The word sliced through Kate’s haze of passion, making her tense. Beautiful wasn’t a word that applied to her. Beautiful described models and movie stars, the kind of women Zack was accustomed to. It was a word reserved for the busty, naked women in men’s magazines—the ones Wayne had always criticized her for not looking like. How much more lacking would she seem to Zack, a man who dated some of the most glamorous women in the world?
She drew up her arms and covered her breasts.
Zack pulled back. “Kate, honey—what’s the matter?”
She drew a shaky breath and looked away. “Y-you said I was beautiful.”
“And that upset you?”
“I know what I look like.” She kept her face averted. “I’m nothing like the women you’re accustomed to.”
“You’re right about that.” Zack leaned up on one elbow. “You’re genuine and smart and sexy as hell, and you turn me on more than anyone has in years.” Maybe ever. Zack pushed the thought away.
“I’ll just disappoint you.”
He stared at her quizzically. “What are you talking about?”
She closed her eyes, a look of shame covering her face. “I— I’m not very good at sex.”
“Not very good?” He pushed up higher. “Where’d you get an idea like that?”
“From Wayne.” A tear trickled down the side of her nose. “He—he said I’m not responsive.”
It wasn’t enough that the sorry SOB had used Kate to finance a move to the Big Apple, stolen her money, and abandoned her when he got her pregnant—he’d also seen fit to give her a major inferiority complex. “Wayne’s an even bigger idiot than I thought.” Zack leaned over her and looked directly into her eyes. “Kate, honey—you are a beautiful, desirable woman, and the only thing you’re not good at is selecting men to get involved with.”
“But the whole time I was with him, I never had… I mean, I never could… I never a-a-achieved…”
“You never had an orgasm?”
She threw both arms over her head.
Zack wanted to look her in the eye, but her face was covered with elbows and forearms. “And he blamed you?” Muttering an oath, he shook his head. “Honey, surely you’ve learned from other men that Wayne was the one with the problem.”
A soft sob sounded from under her arm, followed by her muffled voice. “There haven’t been any other men.” No sex in more than thirteen years—and the only sex she’d ever had was with a jerk who didn’t know or care how to please her. Wow. She was less experienced than most virgins.
“Sugar, for an educated woman, you sure have a lot to learn.” He gently pulled her arms off her face and waited until she opened her eyes.
Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. “But Wayne said other women always climaxed with him.”
Yeah, right. They probably faked it to get the insensitive oaf off them as fast as possible.
“I tried and I tried, but I never could.”
“That was probably the problem. Sex isn’t about trying to reach a goal. It’s about giving and taking pleasure and losing yourself in the moment.” He gently brushed a tear from her face, along with a wayward strand of hair. “I’d like to propose a solution.”
She parted her arms enough to peek through them. “What?”
“Just for tonight, I want you to try not to have an orgasm.”
“N-not to have one?”
“That’s right. Let’s remove the goal so there’s no pressure. You are hereby expressly forbidden to climax. Just lie back and enjoy yourself, and tell me what you like and what you don’t like. Agreed?”
“But—but what about you?”
“Don’t worry about me, sugar. I'm going to enjoy this plenty. Now lie back and relax.”
Kate lay back against the soft pillows. Zack leaned over, putting his lips close to her ear, and brushed kisses along the side of her neck. “Do you like this?” he whispered.
The warmth of his breath sent delicious shivers chasing through her. “Oh, yes.” Kate's arms wound around his back, and he stretched on top of her, supporting his weight on his elbows. He kissed her until she was once more on fire, her breath coming in hot, urgent puffs. His five o’clock shadow rasped deliciously against her skin, giving her a thrilling rush of goose bumps.
His kisses trailed to her collarbone, and he eased her shirt open again.
“You need your shirt off, too,” she murmured.
He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. The sight made her breath catch in her throat. His shoulders were broad and well muscled, his chest covered with dark masculine hair that narrowed to a thin line down his hard belly.
His biceps bulged as he tossed the shirt aside and bent back over her. His mouth blazed a white-hot path of pleasure from her throat to her breast. His fingers languidly followed, cupping her breast as his mouth claimed a pebbled tip.
Kate gasped, A live wire seemed to run from her breasts to the juncture of her thighs, carrying a current of heat and pleasure, She moaned as his mouth worked erotic magic, moving from one breast to the other, grazing the tips with his teeth, stimulating nerve endings she’d never known she had.
His mouth slid down, stringing kisses along the underside of her breasts, moving lower across her belly. His beard-shadowed chin grazed a soft-rough trail across her skin, all the way down to the waistband of her jeans. He unfastened the top button and slowly, slowly, pulled down her zipper.
“Just relax,” Zack whispered. “Just relax and enjoy.”
He sat up on the bed and tugged off her jeans.
“You, too,” she murmured.
He smiled, his teeth a flash of white in the dark. “All right.” He stood beside the bed and shrugged off his jeans. He wore cotton knit underwear, the designer kind that was half boxer, half brief, but the fabric and cut were not what riveted her attention. It was the enormous, unmistakable evidence of his arousal.
Her heart stampeded against her chest. “Oh, my.”
His eyes glittered as he climbed back in bed and resumed where he’d left off, sliding kisses across her stomach. His fingers slowly worked their way up her outer legs, then danced a sweet, slow waltz across her skin, gliding to the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. Heat pooled inside her, heavy and languid and luscious, as his fingers teased the edge of her panties. She let out a little moan and arched against him.
“Do you like that?”
“Oh, yes. Oh, I want…”
“Yes?”
She raised up on her elbows and looked down at him. “I want to do something for you.”
“Believe me, honey, you are.” His lips curved in a sexy grin as his fingers continued their sweet torment. “Just lie back and let me.”
With a contented sigh, Kate lay back and surrendered to the pleasure he was stirring within her. At last, at long last, he slid a finger softly down her center, pressing the silk of her panties against her flesh.
She moaned and moved against the pressure.
“Just relax,” he murmured. He caressed her through the fabric for several long moments, then slowly peeled her underwear down and off her legs.
He moved lower on the bed and gazed at her. “You’re so beautiful—so very beautiful.”
This time, she believed him. He made her feel wonderful and sexy and desired.
He brushed her soft triangle of hair for a long moment; then his fingers moved inward, intimately caressing her with slow, inciting strokes, teasing but not entering, making her ache to be filled. His fingers moved up and down her desire-slicked womanhood, circling her swollen nub, until her breath was coming hard and fast and her hips strained toward him. When he touched her with his tongue, she stiffened.
“Let me, Kate,” he pleaded. “Let me taste you."
Never had she dreamed that such pleasure existed. A taut cord of tension tightened within her, a tension that was exquisite and excruciating. Her fingers curled into Zack’s hair as the pleasure mounted to unbearable intensity.
“Please,” she murmured, not even knowing exactly what it was she craved, but craving it with all her being. “Oh, please.”
“Just relax,” he whispered. “Just relax and feel.”
His mouth resumed its delicious torture, driving her beyond words, beyond thought. Just as it seemed she could take no more, her universe imploded, collapsing down to nothing but this man, this moment, this incredible, amazing gift of pleasure he was giving her. She shuddered and shattered and gave herself over to the moment, to the pleasure, to him.
He moved up the mattress and held her in his arms.
“That was…” She searched her mind, but words failed her. “That was…”
“That was an orgasm,” he said helpfully.
She returned his smile, her heart bubbling with emotion. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to have one.”
He trailed a fingertip down her chest, his eyes warm. “There are no supposed-to’s in lovemaking.”
“You tricked me.”
“Do you mind?”
“I don’t guess I do.” She smiled into his face, and he smiled back. Tenderness, full and sweet, saturated the moment. Emotion swelled in her heart, along with the need to give him some of the joy he’d given her. Her hand slid down his chest to his belly, then lower.
He gasped as Kate’s fingers closed around his manhood.
“I want to feel you inside me,” she murmured.
It was all he could do to form a thought, much less words. “Me, too,” he managed. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anything as much in his life.
He reached down, dug in the pocket of his jeans, and pulled out the small plastic packet he always kept in his wallet. After he’d donned protection, he leaned over her. Claiming his mouth in a kiss, she pulled him down and wrapped her legs around his waist.
That was all he could stand. The thought of those legs around him had been driving him crazy ever since that night in the French Quarter. She tilted her hips, and he slowly eased his way in.
“Oh,” she moaned.
He paused, suddenly remembering that it had been thirteen years since she’d had sex. He gazed down, worried. “Am I hurting you?”
“No. Oh, no.” She shifted against him, driving him deeper. “It feels sooooo good.”
“You ought to feel it from my side,” he whispered.
A soft smile lit her face. Zack gazed into her eyes and slid all the way home. The pleasure was so intense he nearly lost it immediately. She was slick and hot and tight, and she met him thrust for thrust. He slowed the tempo, struggling to hold back, wanting to give her another release.
He gazed down at her, taking in her parted, panting lips, the curved sweep of her lashes, the soft sheen of sweat between her breasts. Emotion, as baffling as it was intense, swelled in his chest, fueling his passion. Just as it reached a fever pitch, Kate cried out and contracted around him. Her pleasure drove him over the edge. He dove into a honeyed place deep within her, a place of sweet release and completeness, a place that felt like home.
Chapter Thirteen
Kate awoke slowly the next morning, clinging to the wispy remnants of a dream. The content escaped her, but the colors remained—blazing, glorious colors, mouthwatering shades of raspberry and peach and plum, warm tones of sunshine and fire and burnt umber. The colors had wrapped around her and embraced her, then seeped inside and saturated her, leaving her with a bone-deep sense of contentment.
She wondered why she’d never dreamed in color before. The dream was starting to fade, but the delicious, cozy feeling of being embraced lingered. Mercy, but her bed felt good this morning. The covers were deliciously warm and solid.
She gave a languorous stretch, then froze. Her eyelids flew wide open.
That wasn’t a blanket wrapped under her breasts; that was a large masculine arm. And her back wasn’t pressed against a pillow, but a solid, hairy chest. Most alarming of all, the hard thing draped between her legs wasn’t a twisted sheet but a muscled masculine leg.
All of those Y-chromosome body parts could only belong to one person—Zack.
Her heart fluttered wildly as the events of the night before flooded her in complete, excruciatingly intimate detail. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotion, then opened them abruptly as a thought shot an arrow of tenor straight through her heart. Oh, my stars—I’m falling in love with him.
No. She couldn’t fall in love with him. It was an impossible situation—worse than impossible. She’d promised herself that she’d never again give her heart to someone who didn’t love her back, and Zack didn’t even believe in love. How could she fall for someone who believed love affairs should have expiration dates?
Besides, she and Zack came from entirely different worlds. He went to A-list Hollywood parties and Academy Awards ceremonies. She went to the grocery store and junior high PTA meetings. They weren’t even on the same side of the fence when it came to the historical accuracy of this movie. There was no way she could fall in love with him. It was insane. It was a heartache waiting to happen. She absolutely, positively refused to get emotionally involved with him.
But she already was. What, oh what, was she going to do?
He shifted his heavy arm more tightly around her. She could hear him breathing, feel the warm rhythmic puffs of air against her hair. To her alarm, his fingers curled around her breast, cradling it in his hand. His thumb slid across her nipple. She thought he was still asleep as an unmistakably aroused, very male part of his anatomy pressed against her backside. But then he nibbled on the top of her ear. “Good morning, sugar.”
A sense of panic flooded her veins. “G-good morning.” She scooted to the edge of the bed and started to climb out, only to realize she was completely naked under the sheet.
“Where’re you going?”
Back to a place where her heart was safe and her life made sense and her emotions weren’t fried and scrambled. Except she had no idea where that might be, or how the heck to get there. She needed some time to think. “I need to, uh, visit the, uh, facilities.” She grabbed the old faded quilt off the end of the bed and wrapped it tightly around her.
Zack leaned up on one elbow and grinned at her. “No need to wrap up like a mummy. I’ve seen you naked, you know.”
Kate’s face flamed. She tugged the quilt higher around her breasts. “I’m sort of bashful—”
“You weren’t last night.”
Kate’s cheeks blazed hotter. “Well, I’m not accustomed to strolling around naked.”
Zack gave her a wicked grin. “We’ll work on it. By the time the shoot’s over, you’ll be walking around like a regular nudist.” By the time the shoot’s over. Oh, dear—that would be their expiration date. He’d go back to Hollywood and she’d go back to the university, and life would go on just as before.
Except it wouldn’t be like before. She’d be abandoned and devastated and brokenhearted, just as she’d been with Wayne. If she cared for Zack now, how much more would she care after weeks of sharing his bed?
Tears gathered behind her eyes. She turned away, not wanting him to see them. “I-I’ll be back in a moment.” Tightly clutching the quilt, she grabbed her duffel bag and held it in front of her as she hurried to the door, wishing she had something to shield her heart as well.
She stood outside the cabin a few minutes later, fully dressed and fully resolved. Drawing a deep breath, she pushed open the squeaky screen door and stepped inside. The room was dim after the bright light of the outdoors, but not so dim that she couldn’t see Zack, propped against the old metal headboard of the bed, his hands behind his head.
The sight made her heart clatter against her ribs. It was unfair that he should look so sexy. The muscles of his arm stood in prominent display, and his tanned skin made a stark contrast to the white sheet riding low across his flat belly. His hair was tousled, his chin dark with stubble, and his eyes glittered with sensual promises as he grinned at her.
“I can see we need to get right to work on your bashfulness.” He reached out his hand toward her. “Come on over here.”
All she had to do was take three steps—four at the most— and she’d be back in his arms. Good heavens, but it was tempting. The memory of the sensations he’d stirred in her last night made her knees feel like wet noodles. He’d not only touched her body, but her heart. Making love with Zack had been the most moving experience of her life.
Which was exactly why she didn’t dare repeat it. Kate nervously moistened her lips and stiffened her spine, hoping to stiffen her resolve as well. “We need to talk, Zack.”
“No, we don’t. We need to make love.” His voice was low and sultry, and it did dangerous things to her body temperature.
She braced herself on the back of the old wooden chair. “That’s what we need to talk about. Last night was—”
“Fantastic,” Zack cut in. The hot look in his eyes gave her shivers. “Absolutely amazing. You were amazing.” He gave her a slow grin.
“It was a mistake.”
He sat up more fully in bed, his eyebrows raised, his forehead creased in consternation. “You didn’t enjoy it?”
