The Unsung Hero (38 page)
He found her tattoo. It was a miniature peace symbol, smaller than a dime and on her left hip, hiding just below her panty line. It was the perfect mix of both sweet and sexy, and he loved it.
Kelly pulled away from him again, this time crawling toward her bedside table, where she grabbed a foil-wrapped condom from the drawer. He dragged her panties down her legs as she tore the package open.
She kissed him as he covered himself. She pressed her body against him, sliding her hands down his arms, running her fingers through the hair on his chest. No sooner was he done than she threw her leg over him, straddling him.
Kelly was moving fast, but Tom caught her, holding her by the hips, stopping her from ensheathing him. She made a sound of protest and stopped kissing him long enough to look at him.
“Hey,” Tom said to her. “Last chance to change your mind.”
She laughed—a burst of disbelief. “You’re kidding.”
“Damn right I’m kidding,” he said to her. “I just wanted your attention.”
Now that he had it, now that she was looking at him, he lowered her slowly down, surrounding himself with her heat just a little bit, then just a little bit more.
“See, I’ve always had this fantasy,” he breathed, “that the first time we did this, I’d be looking into your eyes.”
It was incredible. Whatever he’d fantasized or imagined, it hadn’t been even close to this. He released her completely as he lay back, pressing himself even more deeply inside her. Home at last.
Still holding his gaze, Kelly smiled tremulously. “I’ve always loved looking into your eyes,” she whispered as she began to move on top of him. “You have such beautiful eyes, Tommy.”
What she was doing felt too good and Tom couldn’t speak. He could only pull her forward to kiss her, to touch her, to fill his palms with the satin of her skin.
She was driving him mad by moving that slowly, but he stood it for far longer than he thought he could.
Then he rolled them both over so that he was on top, hoping that would give him the composure he needed.
It didn’t.
He was out of control as Kelly pressed herself up to meet him, welcoming his faster rhythm, kissing him fiercely. The world began to blur, but his dizziness wasn’t from his injury. He’d never known such intense pleasure, such soul-permeating ecstasy. Her mouth, his mouth, her hands, his. It was hard to tell where he ended and she began.
Tom heard her moaning—or was that his voice?
He moved even faster, harder at her urging, even though he knew that doing so would push him over the edge.
“Kelly,” he said raggedly. “Kelly . . . Kel, this feels too good. I can’t stop myself from—”
She shattered.
Just like that, he felt the power of her intense release. And if he hadn’t felt it, he sure as hell would’ve heard it.
It was the most wonderful, beautiful sensation he’d ever experienced in his entire life. She clung to him desperately, as her body shook with wave upon wave of pleasure, as she cried his name again and again and again.
He did this. He made her feel this way.
He would’ve laughed out loud, but the scorching rush of his own climax rocketed dizzyingly through him, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel.
Kelly.
His brain shorted out for several long moments after. And as he drifted in that strange place between intense mind-blowing pleasure and the intoxicating warmth of afterglow, bits and pieces of the last few hours, the last few days even, replayed themselves in seemingly random order.
He heard an echo of Kelly’s voice. I’ve always loved looking into your eyes. You have such beautiful eyes. Beautiful eyes. Paoletti eyes. A little bit sad. Comes from keeping so many secrets. Secrets. Secrets.
Joe’s voice. You’ve been in love with Kelly nearly half your life.
Then Kelly again. I need you to see me for who I am.
Christ, maybe Joe saw something that Tom couldn’t see, because Tom had been blinded by Kelly’s nice-girl facade—a facade he himself had helped to build. But it was gone now. Completely torn down.
Tom saw Kelly’s face. Kelly’s smile as she made love to him. He saw her. Clearly. No mislabels. No mistakes. She was beautiful, she was naked, she was funny and rude and fresh and so much more than he’d let himself see before.
In a blinding, glaring flash, he knew that Joe was right. Tom loved this woman with all his heart.
He jerked open his eyes, launching himself out of that drifting place and back to here and now. To Kelly’s room, Kelly’s bed. Where his face was buried in Kelly’s hair. He was crushing her, and he rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms. This was insane. He couldn’t possibly love her. And yet . . . “Holy shit.” He was breathing hard for a whole new reason now.
She snuggled against him. “What?”
“Nah,” he said quickly. “Nothing. I’m just . . . you know, holy shit, you know?”
Kelly laughed softly, lifting her head to kiss his jawline, lazily playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Eloquently put.”
“Seriously, though,” Tom said, afraid of falling into contemplative silence, afraid of suddenly blurting out something he still hadn’t completely figured out for himself yet. “And be honest now. Was I noisy enough for you?”
She laughed again. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those awful guys who ask—” She lowered her voice. “ ‘—So, was it good for you?’ “
“Nah,” he said. “It’s just that noisy’s not something I’ve had much experience with, so . . .” He smiled. “Besides, I know if it was only one one-thousandth as good for you as it was for me, that it was still probably pretty damn good for you.”
She propped herself up on one elbow. “Really? It was that good for you?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, God, I’ve turned into one of those awful guys.”
Tom leaned forward to lightly kiss the tip of her breast. “Oh, no, you haven’t. And oh, yes, it was. . . .” He tried to sound casual and matter-of-fact, as if this were no big deal. “The best sex of my life.”
She sat up. “Wow.” She wasn’t laughing anymore.
“So about that movie theater thing,” Tom said, cursing himself for revealing too much too soon. “You busy tomorrow? There are a couple of movies out that I have absolutely no interest in seeing.”
She laughed again, as he’d hoped she would. And then she kissed him. “This,” she said, with her beautiful eyes sparkling, “is really going to be fun.”
________________________________________
Fifteen
“DO YOU SUPPOSE my father and Joe are wondering where we disappeared to?” Kelly lifted her head to look up at Tom.
He looked over at the open French doors, realizing with a flash of alarm that they were wide open. But no. No way could Joe and Charles have heard them, no matter how loud they’d been. The two old men were sitting on the other side of the house, down on the first floor, on the deck. Still . . .
“It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if your father came searching for me with a shotgun.” He ran his hand lightly down her bare back, unable to get enough of touching her. “I feel like I’m breaking the rules by being here—in Kelly Ashton’s bedroom with the door locked.”
He’d always imagined that would be better than paradise. He’d been dead right.
Kelly smiled at him. “It’s kind of strange, isn’t it?”
“Strange and wonderful.”
“Speaking of strange and wonderful, I forgot to mention it to you this morning, but last night I actually got Dad to tell me a little bit about this argument he’s been having with Joe. Believe it or not, it has something to do with a woman who was in the French Resistance.”
“Cybele,” Tom said.
Her mouth dropped open. “You know about her? And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t,” he said hastily. “Know about her, I mean. That was just a lucky guess. Joe mentioned someone named Cybele, and Charles nearly had a heart attack. I couldn’t get them to tell me more than that. Although Joe gave me a few more hints today—mostly from the things he didn’t say about her.”
“They were both in love with her,” Kelly told him. “I think my father’s still in love with her.” She laughed softly. “I didn’t think he knew how to love anyone, and yet here he’s been in love with this Cybele woman for nearly his entire life.” She settled back down, with her head against his shoulder, running her fingers through the hair on his chest. “I don’t know what happened to her. Do you?”
Tom sighed. “No. And Joe’s not talking.”
Tipping her head back, she looked up at him and touched his face. “You look tired. How are you feeling?”
He felt a wave of giddy disbelief as he looked into her eyes. Kelly Ashton was lying naked, next to him. He still couldn’t believe it. And he wanted her again. Already. He kissed her. “Incredible, thanks.”
“Headache? Dizziness?”
“Help, there’s suddenly a doctor in my bed.”
“It’s my bed,” she countered. “There’s always a doctor in it. How are you feeling?”
She was serious. She wanted a medical report. “I’m doing okay,” he told her.
She sat up and looked at him. The eyebrow raised in skepticism was made far less effective by her nakedness. Her hair was tousled, and it just wasn’t long enough to do more than bend enticingly at the tops of her breasts. Her beautiful, naked breasts.
It was impossible not to smile at her, but that just made her frown at him.
“What?” he said. “I’m not allowed to be doing okay?”
“I need you to be honest with me about this,” Kelly said with wide-eyed sincerity. “I know you’re tough and you’ve been trained to endure nearly anything, but when you’re with me, don’t just endure, all right?” She took his hand, pressed it to her cheek. “Please? Promise me, Tom. . . .”
He’d always found naked, begging women impossible to disappoint. “I promise.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked again.
“Slight—very slight—headache. Almost nonexistent, certainly not bad enough to complain about. See, I really am doing okay.” He reached for her, but she backed away.
She wasn’t done. “Dizzy at all?”
“To be honest, I don’t know for sure. You do things to me, babe, that turn my world upside down. But all the dizziness I’ve felt today seems physiologically appropriate.”
Kelly smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. He took full advantage, pulling her close, touching all that soft skin, drinking her in.
Her voice was breathless. “Last question from the doctor. Are you feeling up to—”
“Yes.”
She laughed as he swiftly rolled her onto her back, as he pushed his way between her legs. “Because as a doctor I’m very observant, and I couldn’t fail to notice—”
He kissed her.
“Mmmm,” she said as she pressed herself up against him. “I thought so. I could get used to this.”
Oh, baby, so could he. Three, four times a day, every day? For the next few weeks. After that, he didn’t want to think about it. He couldn’t bear to think about it. He didn’t want to stay, but he sure as hell didn’t want to go. Suddenly his life was even more complicated than it had been just a few short hours ago.
He closed his eyes as she reached between them, her touch banishing all thought as she drew him to her, as she lifted her hips and . . .
The phone rang. At first he thought it was in his head, some kind of red alert condom alarm. What the hell was he doing, about to enter her without a condom on? Was he nuts? Was he completely insane?
He pulled back as the phone rang again.
“Uh-oh,” she said. “It’s the Bat Phone. Trouble in Gotham City.”
There were two of them, Tom realized. Two phones on her bedside table. One was a regular Princess phone, the other—the one that was shrilly ringing—was cordless.
He let her slide out from underneath him, taking the opportunity to touch her every inch of the way as she reached for the phone. “Kelly Ashton.”
But once she was listening and talking, he kept his hands to himself. Fun was fun, but business was business, and he’d had lovers try to distract him from the business of an important phone call. He hadn’t found it sexy at all—only irritating.
Whatever the person on the other end of the line told Kelly, it made her sit up. “Yes.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed, turning her back on him. “Yes. And she’s . . .”
She scanned the floor for her underwear, finding her bra and finally her panties. “I see, uh-huh.”
Oh, hell. Kelly was leaving.
As Tom watched, she put on her underwear. Watching her do that was nice, but compared to what they’d just started, it didn’t cut it.
With the phone under her chin, she pulled a pair of khaki pants from a pile of clothes and stepped into them, too.
She was definitely leaving. Every cell in his body was jangling, ready for another enthusiastically energetic round of sex, and she was leaving.
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