Betting Hearts (19 page)

The wild craziness of their earlier kisses was completely missing from this one. He was slow, torturously tender. He teased his way into her mouth, his tongue unfurling while his hands smoothed over her bare thighs. There was nothing between them now but heat, his weight a delicious seduction on her skin.

“I’m going to touch you, Cassie,” he whispered at the corner of her mouth.

She nodded. What else could she do? She shivered at the slow motion of his fingertip sliding over her hip. He added a second one when he reached her ribs, trailing all the way to the point of her breast, when she heard him exhale in a whoosh. His palm closed over her, judging the weight and feel. Cass arched into the warmth of his hand, luxuriating in his rough heat. Just as she was getting used to it, he slid his hand back the way it came.

“Are you going this slow to drive me crazy?” she asked, breathless already, opening her eyes as little as she had to.

He laughed, deep in his throat, looking down at her with a smugness she wanted to pummel him for. “That was the idea.”

“I don’t like that idea, Halifax.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”

“No, I—” Her eyes opened wide.
The sneaky bugger.

“Do you like this idea?”

She wanted to answer him, but his fingers had slipped to the already aching part of her, touching her as if he were stroking each petal of a rose. Instead, she gasped, shocked at the slide of his fingers between her intimate folds, suddenly overwhelmed by both relief and more throbbing. Helplessly, her legs widened for him and she thought maybe she pressed closer to him, because the pressure of those touches increased. But not enough.

“You sound a little uncomfortable,” he crooned next to her ear before reaching out and nipping at the lobe. “Better let me rub that for you.”

And he did, his rough thumb glancing off her sharpest need, circling it and coming back for another pass. Desperate for some kind of anchor, she clung to his shoulders, squeezing shut her eyes, unsure if she wanted him to stop or continue. It didn’t matter, he was going to do what he wanted.

He apparently wanted to sink one long finger deep inside her.

“Oh, Cassie…” There was no teasing in his gruff voice now; no illicit, playful lover. She jolted up against his palm, responding not only to his touch but to the outright sexual urgency in his raw whisper.

His mouth covered hers, swallowing whatever she was going to cry out. His tongue stroked hers, alternating the pace of his finger. The combination of the two stimuli had her body quaking, reaching for something too far away. He moved his kiss from her lips to her throat, still not stopping the sweet torment of that hand.

Cass didn’t know what she wanted now. Her body was warm, once again the melting honey Burke took his time tasting. A kiss here, a nip there, a lick over her breastbone. Wet warmth encircled her nipple, drawing a gasp. She could feel his smile on her skin while she gripped his shoulders, his mouth drawing her deep inside. It should have hurt, but it didn’t. Not when he slid his arm beneath her, pulling her up off the mattress. Not even when he stopped stroking her, instead sitting up and taking her with him. She straddled him easily, not disconcerted when she felt her own moisture in his touch.

His hands wandered her back while his mouth mapped her breasts. Cass watched him through sleepy eyes, cataloguing every sweep of his tongue, every graze of his teeth. Her own hands weren’t lax, finally satisfying her urge to touch his hair. The wavy blackness felt like silk, different from the muscles like iron beneath her.

He laid her back down, this time with her head on the pillow at the top of the bed. She heard the drawer of his night table open, listened to the foil packet tear, the plastic ripple of him protecting them before he slid behind her, pressing all his heat against her, their bodies fitting like lost puzzle pieces.

Cass dazedly realized how much like a dream this felt. It couldn’t be real. It must be some sort of stolen moment. Shouldn’t stolen moments be at night? When you could hide things you didn’t want your lover to see. She could hide nothing in the morning sunshine blossoming through the window. Then again, what was there to hide that he didn’t already know?

Burke’s mouth found the back of her neck, a steady, sucking kiss making her tremble even as his hand found her breast again. He rocked his hips, swaying them, timing each thrust with the pressure of his fingers. No, she would never hide from this.

Her eyes found the mirror of his vanity, the old oak frame large but not frightening. She saw her own body, flushed and shining from a sheen of sweat. Burke looked dark behind her, head bowed, his powerful forearm holding her close to him. She didn’t recognize herself, that woman being made love to. Her eyes were too green, too passion-filled. Her mouth was swollen from kisses, cheeks flushed with more color than she’d ever had. Every part of her looked lush, rosy…loved.

Yes, that was it. It was the look Alice had when she was with Sel. The look her father got when he talked about her mother. That woman in the mirror was soul deep in love.

She watched Burke’s hand ease from her breast to the brown curls at the apex of her thighs. Feeling exploded into her as his fingers soothed the aching there, the throbbing grew painful. Her own eyes widened in the mirror, making her realize this was no fantasy. This was her, this was Burke.

“Are you ready for me, Cassie?”

She looked at his reflection, at the blue eyes nearly black with passion, the hard corners of his cheekbones, the full slash of his mouth. He met her gaze, waiting for her answer, utterly unaware of what she could see as clearly as the daylight surrounding them. She could see his worry, his doubt. She saw everything. Just like she, he could hide nothing in that moment.

Oh Burke…you still don’t know, do you?
“More than I could ever tell you.”

He nodded, lifting her leg just enough to guide himself to the heart of her. Slow, so slow she thought she might die from the sensations filling her, he eased his way there, making a home for himself inside her. He pulled her closer, his arm across her hips, mouth open on her shoulder. Time lost all meaning when he began to move, stretching her, gripping her without the gentleness he’d been using all this time. Now was not the time for it. Not when she was tightening, burning, needing.

Cass kept watching them in the mirror, seeing through slitted eyes as each thrust took them higher, rode them faster, making them both cry out when the passion spun out of control. Only then did she close her eyes, because she didn’t need the mirror to show her anything anymore. She saw the truth, even if Burke couldn’t.

That was love.

Burke lay on his side, watching Cass sleep. He pulled the sheet over them, not wanting her body to cool so much she’d wake up. He wasn’t ready for her to wake up. He wasn’t sure he ever would be.

What have I done?

He wiped his face with one hand, frowning deeper because her scent was still on it. He was filled with that scent, that flavor. In fact, he doubted he’d ever be free of it. He looked down at her, her beautiful face still rosy from what they had done together. What they would do again. He knew it. He needed it.

He needed
her
.

Even now he throbbed with it, hunger turning him inside-out. But so was regret. She deserved much more than he had just given her. Lust—that singularly driving force overwhelming rationale, common sense, any type of intelligence at all. A smart man would have been able to send his best friend away. A smart man would never have dared to kiss her in the first place, inviting temptation in. Of course, a smart man would never know the pleasure of being inside her willing body or the taste of someone so sweet she made the pain of regret worth it.

How long until he hurt her? How long until fulfilling her physically wasn’t enough? Things had changed but good now. Like he told her, there was no going back.

She would want all those things other women wanted. Sex, of course. But she’d also want those three “T’s” as well: time, trinkets and tulips. Soon enough, she’d see what he already knew too well. He was hollow inside. He could pleasure her, he could give her anything she asked, but the day she asked for some sign of his love was the day he’d destroy her. The light in her eyes this morning would dim, eventually going out entirely when it became apparent he couldn’t change to suit her. Their easy friendship would disappear, lost in argument and disillusion.

Burke cursed himself a few more times, reaching out for her hair. He twined the auburn tress around his hand, the binding loose and beautiful. She looked like a sleeping goddess here, the masses of hair spread across his pillow the way it always was in his dreams.

He wondered which he would miss more. CB, with the mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a smudge of dirt on her nose, or Cass, the fiery temptress who barely wore clothes and moved like sin had been invented specifically for her. His chest tightened painfully, because he truly couldn’t decide. He only knew he’d lose them both.

Suddenly desperate, he pulled the sheet away. Her eyes opened, awareness already flaring deep in those green irises. She smiled, knowing without words what he needed. He fit himself above her, closing his eyes and taking her mouth before she said anything. It wasn’t enough, he knew, hearing her muffled sigh. He’d give her everything he had, but it would never be enough.

Chapter Nine

Cass stared at the dress in front of her, but she didn’t see it. Her mind wasn’t on rubbing Luke’s face in his own stupidity. Instead, she was still walking around in a haze from her amazing morning with Burke. How had it happened? Why hadn’t it happened before? When would it happen again?

Sure, he’d been a little funny afterwards. He held her close for a while, which she didn’t mind at all. He kept her quiet, though, which she wasn’t going to allow to worry her. Not at all. What was to worry about? Just because every time she tried to say something, he kissed her. Or he touched her. Or he made love to her again. She dozed off around ten and when she woke, he was gone. There was a note on his bedside table, telling her to come back for practice at seven.

She might have been concerned about his leaving without telling her, but she knew he had to work. He was already hours late to the garage by the time she fell asleep. Lord knew he couldn’t miss a day there. The building might fall to the ground. The cars might repair themselves. The guys might fight physics to wedge into his office for an orgiastic viewing of Oprah.

People might figure out why he was late.

She tried not to think that one, but it came up every time.

“I thought you hated gathered dresses,” Alice said from over her shoulder.

Cass turned around. Alice’s due date passed a few days earlier with no sign of labor, and she had taken to walking in department stores to help nudge the baby into motion. Since Cass wasn’t doing anything, she offered to wander with her while Sel took Reva for some “Daddy time”. Alice called it “Step away from the scary mommy time”.

“I do.” She fingered the folds of the dress absently while Alice groaned, rubbing her belly.

“Come on, kid. It can’t be that interesting in there. You don’t even get cable.”

Cass smiled as she turned back to the rack, but her heart wasn’t in it. Confusion seemed the only thing on her mind. He
could
have called in and spent a day discovering the miracle between them, couldn’t he? He could have said what she saw in his eyes, on his face, every time he kissed her. He could have done…
something
.

“You hate orange, too,” Alice reminded.

Cass stuck her tongue out at her friend with a smile. “Do not.” But she did. Finally noticing the hideous color, she stepped away.
Why did he leave?

“I know I’m just the excuse here, but it might help if you talk about it,” Alice said with a sigh.

Cass tried to smile. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever is bugging you. I know what I think it is—or rather who. It would sure help a lot if you’d just spit it out.”

The smile wilted. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Alice rolled her neck and arched her back. “You’re going to make me dig for it. Don’t I seem busy enough? Can’t you give the tired pregnant lady a break?”

“If you’re busy, you don’t need to be worrying about me.”

The answering grumble brought Cass’s smile back for all new reasons. “We both know this kid isn’t coming out without a stick of dynamite going off. Might as well entertain me while she camps on my bladder. Speaking of, you better walk with me.”

“Are you sure your water didn’t break? This is your third trip in an hour.”

“Welcome to pregnancy. Now tell me. What happened with Burke?”

Cass blushed. “It’s that obvious?”

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said since we got here. You alternate between grinning like a loon or sighing like a Greek tragedy. If that’s not a man, nothing is.”

She
teetered between keeping her mouth shut and spilling her guts. Both had their pitfalls. Keeping it to herself meant that she’d miss out on what might be sound, reasonable thinking. Blabbing like a deflating balloon meant sharing something personal and beautiful and having it come across all wrong.