Between Strangers (9 page)

Stretching his shoulder blades, he attempted to move away from her sensual draw. “Man, my shoul
ders are sure stiff from using that saw today. Guess I'm out of practice.”

Marcy kicked off her shoes and knelt on the sofa beside him. “Turn your back. I'll massage the muscles.”

Slowly turning, he shook his head at his stupidity. Sore muscles, what a stupid excuse. Another bad idea.

She began to knead his shoulders, and every place she touched erupted in fire. Yep.
Really
bad idea.

“Uh, Marcy…”

Her hands gentled, slowed and moved down his arms. The atmosphere in the great room shifted, thickened and intensified until it became heavy and alive with hunger. It smelled of pine and vanilla…and desire. And to Lance it felt like an end to reserve and the beginning of surrender.

She pulled the rawhide thong from his hair, pushed aside the freed strands and placed her lips against the back of his neck as she leaned her breasts into his back. He could feel her nipples harden against him. The very air was electrified with arousal.

He had to back away before his every good intention was lost, but he couldn't bear to see her hurt expression one more time. Standing, he turned to face her and held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

With a surprised look, she slowly nodded and joined him. Moving into his arms, Marcy sighed when he pulled her close. He guided them in a slow waltz while the CD played a soft and melancholy Christmas tune. But as they moved together, he lost track of what he'd meant to do.

Her body melded to his. Soft to hard. Two separate needs, blending in time to the music.

Bending his head, he kissed her temple and caught a whiff of that sexy, sunshine smell. She moaned against his chest, suddenly reminding him of his vow and stirring him to action. He stepped back and broke his hold on her.

She lifted her chin, and the disappointment and confusion were clear in her eyes. “Is it me?” she whispered. “I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Is it because I'm a mother that I turn you off?”

“What?” The pain on her face drove an unbearable ache deep into his chest. “I think we'd better talk, Marcy.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the sofa.

After they were settled, he decided to begin right away before she started to imagine the worst. “Where on earth would you get the idea that you're doing anything wrong? You couldn't possibly do one thing that would be considered even remotely wrong, and I respect you more than I can say.”

“But…”

He lifted a finger and placed it against her lips. “Let me finish. You're a wonderful mother. I can't imagine anyone doing a better job.” She dropped her chin so he used a thumb and forefinger to gently lift it again. “Listen, please. You've faced adversity with grace and good humor. Not many people, men or women, would've gone through what you have without whining. And you never complained once.

“You're a special person, Marcy. You've found a way to take care of your daughter and go after what
you want in life. I admire you for it. It's taken me a lot of years to decide to try for what I want.”

Her eyes met his gaze and the air sizzled with hot promise. “Then why…why don't I…interest you…physically?” she stammered.

He let himself touch her face…to soothe her…to satisfy him. “You know I want you. I think you have to be the sexiest woman I've ever known. And you must feel the electricity in the air whenever we touch.” Right this minute the tension was about to explode all around them. “But we want different things. This isn't a game. We'll be going our separate ways in a day or two. I don't want…”

It was Marcy's turn to place a finger against his lips. “I know all that. But
I
don't want a long-term relationship the same as you do.” She smiled at him and his brain went south. “I'm not saying that I fall into bed with every man who, uh, makes me feel special. In fact, only one man has ever been in my bed. But you have to admit there is something out of the ordinary between us, and we need to explore what that is before it's too late.”

She laid a hand against his chest, and his heart thudded. “See there. See how you react when I touch you? My whole body does that whenever you're in the same room.”

Leaning in, she placed a light kiss on his lips. “Please, Lance. Please let us find out if this is really magic. Give me a chance.”

The fire crackled as the sparks he'd tried to bury ignited in the sultry depths of his gut. The lines he'd drawn began to combust, while flames burned through
the balance of control and resolve blew away in a puff of smoke.

Cupping her cheek with one hand, he slid the other to the nape of her neck to hold her head steady as he gently explored the sweetness of her mouth. She tasted of hot chocolate and cinnamon, and he got carried away on a scent of sunshine and vanilla. With a final sigh, he released himself from his vows of chastity and made new vows.

He pulled a pin from her hair and flexed his fingers, itching to run them through all that silky softness. “Your hair looks nice. But I think I'd rather it was down.”

She raised her eyebrows, then smiled shyly before helping him remove the pins. Shaking her hair out in a fluffy blond cloud around her head, she stood up and laughed. “And I think you have on way too many clothes.”

 

He was quick to his feet, this man she'd set her sights on having. Folding her into his arms, he covered her lips with a determined and passionate kiss. Surprise and a tiny spurt of panic shot through her veins as his mouth captured hers with heat and power.

Hunger met hunger, and passion tangled with desire. He slanted his mouth across hers, then tugged at her lower lip, begging to deepen the kiss. Opening for him, her tongue found his in an exquisite dance of fire.

Barely able to breathe, her hands moved up his shoulders and into ebony strands of hair. He dipped his tongue inside her mouth, tasting, exploring, tan
talizing. Arching closer, she felt the tips of her nipples grow hard and sensitive as they pressed against his chest.

Her whole body grew heavy and achy with desire as he groaned softly and drove his fingers through her hair. Suddenly it was urgent that she see him. Tugging wildly at his shirt, she pulled it from the waistband of his jeans and tried unbuttoning it with shaky hands.

Lance covered her hands with his own and, leaning back with a wry grin, he helped her to free him from the chambray. He shrugged out of the shirt and pitched it over his shoulder. Blinking back the shock of seeing his expanse of golden-bronze skin gleaming in the firelight, Marcy stood whimpering and gaping in amazement at the broad shoulders and rippling biceps.

He was beyond her wildest and sexiest fantasies. The one other man of her experience paled both literally and figuratively in comparison.

But Lance didn't give her long to admire his physique. He reached for her, and kissed her with such a combination of reverence and lust that it nearly broke her heart.

Without breaking the kiss, she reached for his hand and placed it against her breast, trying desperately to find a way to soothe the aching tenderness there. It was his turn to whimper as his knuckles brushed against her bare skin.

He hooked his thumbs under her dress's spaghetti straps while dangerous, mindless sensations drove her over an edge. She let the thin pieces of material slide
down her arms. His eyes flamed and his nostrils flared as he watched her wiggle, letting the dress slither down her body.

With every nerve ending alive and on fire, Marcy stepped out of the dress and fought the urge to cover her breasts with her hands. Instead she kept her arms at her sides and allowed him to look all he wanted.

She hadn't worn a bra, and now all she had to cover her nakedness was the flimsy material of her cheap see-through panties. But she didn't feel as if she'd done anything wrong or naughty. In fact, the way that Lance's gaze lazily wandered over her body made her stand up taller and revel in the warm, passionate vibrations he was sending her way.

But looking simply wasn't enough. When she moved toward him, he captured her in his embrace and began kissing every inch of skin that had just been under his gaze.

Stirring the bewitched potion of shared desire by licking and touching, he began to drive her up a steep and slippery slope. She was headed toward a place that had only lived in her imagination before.

She knew he had the power to take her there and, in her frantic need, willed him to hurry it up. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Marcy tasted desire right through his skin—and hung on for a lifetime ride to the stars.

“E
asy,” he murmured. “Easy, there.” He pulled back and tried gentling them both the way he would a skittish colt.

But gentle wasn't what his body cried out for. And gentle didn't seem to be what Marcy had in mind.

His heart stumbled when she threw him an intimate look and a teasing smile. Her sensuality robbed him of breath and left him wallowing in intoxicating passion.

Reaching out, he dragged her into his embrace as he lasered a kiss across those full, pink lips. He was lost in the drugging sensation of her hands, moving rhythmically up and down his bare arms. Running his hands over her body in return, he tested her most sensitive places.

When he covered a breast and flicked a thumb over
the hardened nipple, she cried out, thrusting against his hand. Her breasts fit perfectly in his palms. He bent to lave and nip the rosy nubs and watched in fascination as they peaked and beaded under the touch of his tongue.

Biting back the urgent demands of his body, he silently vowed to hold down his needs and let her take pleasure in their mating. Her hands roamed downward toward the waistband of his jeans and he found himself repeating that vow like a commandment.

But then she pressed a palm against the hardened length straining behind his fly, and the vow disintegrated as he heard himself groaning into her ear. Frantically he sucked on earlobes, fingers and nipples. Any sensitive body part he could reach.

When her fingers slipped beneath his waistband, the heat scorched what was left of his mind. He ground his mouth down hungrily on her slightly parted lips.

She ran a finger over the slick, moist tip of his erection and he stopped thinking and breathing altogether. Both blind with need and impatient with desire, the two of them tore at his zipper. A moment later the jeans had joined his shirt on the floor, and she was stroking his throbbing flesh and cradling him in her hands.

A sharp, intense pinch of pleasure bulleted through him. He closed his eyes and clung to her as she cupped him, letting curious fingers roam across ridges and slide down valleys of his arousal. Mind-shattering
and erotic as hell, he felt himself grow with blissful satisfaction.

When he could stand no more and his breath was coming in short static bursts, he pulled out of her grasp. Driving his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties, he slid them down her legs and she stepped out of them.

He knelt before her and reverently pressed his lips against her belly. She moaned and her knees buckled, so he filled his hands with her buttocks and held her to him.

As he tasted her salty, sensitive skin and ringed her navel with his tongue, she mewled, and her shivers of pleasure rocked through them both. He bent to nibble the tender skin along the insides of her thighs, finally pressing a worshiping kiss against the baby-fine blond hair covering her inner core.

She trembled and dug her fingernails into his shoulders, urging him to hurry.

“Easy,” he mumbled once more. And this time, he had himself somewhat under control. “We have all night to make this right. Let me make it good for you.”

She groaned and, with one fast scoop, he reached under her knees and flipped her over his shoulder. He'd thought he might make it to a bed. But his own knees were so shaky they wouldn't hold him. So he released her to collapse back on the sofa.

Gasping, her knees fell apart as she tried to sit up. He didn't give her an instant to catch her breath or her balance as he crawled between her thighs, pinning her exactly where he wanted.

Moving close, he ran a hand up her leg and on up her rib cage, finally letting his fingers play with a nipple. Meanwhile, he bent his head to her hot, wet sex and used the other hand to open her to his lips. She squirmed with every touch against her most sensitive skin.

While he pleasured her nub with his clever tongue, he eased a finger inside her core and felt the inner muscles clench around him. He heard her gasp and call his name. Her moans encouraged him to increase the in-and-out friction of both tongue and fingers.

She writhed and moaned incoherently but he held her fast. Ignoring his own needs, he drew her up to a fevered frenzy, then slowed the pace and gentled his touch to drive her wild.

“Lance. Lance.” Marcy screamed and grabbed handfuls of his hair. “I need…I need…please…I don't know how,” she begged.

He wanted to make her forget every other encounter she'd had. At the same time, he wanted her to remember this time—and him—forever. Nudging her higher again, he began to realize that no one had ever made her this wild, this hot, this frantic.

His ego swelled with his arousal, but his body's demands suddenly took control. “I don't have protection,” he gasped as he pulled her tightly against him.

“It's all right.” She breathed in his ear. “The doctor put me on the pill to even out my hormones.” Her voice trembled with desire and her breathing was ragged.

“Right,” he choked as he grabbed the afghan off
the back of the sofa and spread it on the floor in front of the fire. “I wanted to make you crazy with desire.”

He slid her to the floor and into his needy arms. “But I can't wait…” he whispered in a jagged voice. “Dammit. I just can't…”

His mouth covered hers while he pressed her back to the soft afghan. The passion captured him with such a powerful force, it was like nothing he'd ever experienced.

Running his hands down her rib cage then sliding them under her bottom, they lay together as if they had been made from the same mold. Woman-man.

“Lance,” she urged.

He knew she was close. So was he. And though he wanted to drag this out—to feast forever on her perfection—it was just too intense.

Planting his palms beside her head and nudging her open, he plunged with ferocious need. Marcy raised her hips to take him higher, and he almost blacked out from the sensation. He was a goner now. Untamed, raw and savage. He thrust uncontrollably.

Her muscles began to contract around him. From somewhere out of his drugged haze, he heard her breathy moans spiraling higher.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she screamed.

He stilled with a supreme effort and ground against her as her climax smashed into them both. On and on it went, with wave after wave of pleasure. Her body's reaction shattered him like shards of brittle glass, prickling at his own need and driving him to a higher passion-filled plain.

As the sweet circles of her climax moved to the
edges of his body, he began pumping into that ocean of warmth with everything he had. She wrapped her legs around his waist and raised her hips to meet him thrust for thrust.

Sucking in one sharp, final breath, he lowered his head and slanted a desperate kiss across her mouth. The white-hot climax hit him with furious fire, branding him with her essence—forever.

It was like nothing that had come before. And deep in his fevered brain, he knew nothing that came after would ever be the same.

 

Several unconscious moments later, he wrapped her in his embrace and rolled them both over. He held on to her with an uneasy possessiveness.

Sprawled lazily across his chest, she tried to regulate her breathing. “Wow,” she gulped. “That was…that was…”

He chuckled at her loss of words and wondered if he could do any better without becoming overly sentimental. But there was something he had to know.

“Yes, it was, wasn't it?” He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. “Marcy, somewhere in the middle of all that you said that you'd never, uh… Well, it seemed like that was the first time you'd ever, uh…”

“Yes, Lance. That was the first time I'd ever climaxed during sex. It was amazing.”

Amazing wasn't the word for it. “But you were married. You have a child.” He could feel a rough combination of fury at her ex and sadness that she'd been so alone creeping up to kick him in the gut.

She raised her head and grinned. “You have every
right to beat your chest with pride, Tarzan. What you do to me, what we do together, is special. It really is magical.”

The lump in his throat didn't feel much like magic. “I sort of wish you hadn't told me,” he groaned.

She sighed, and her breath ruffled the hair on his chest, stirring his sex to life. He wanted her again. He was deathly afraid that he would always want her.

Marcy ran her fingers down his arm and took a long breath. He had given her the most amazing sexual experience of her entire life. And he'd done it with restrained tenderness. She laid her head against his heart as the racing beat matched her own.

He reached up to brush a damp and wayward curl from her forehead. They were both sticky with sweat and the remnants of their passion, but she couldn't care less.

They had been wild for each other. Yet, she knew he had held himself back. Probably he'd been afraid of hurting her somehow. He didn't know how tough she was…or how badly she wanted to unleash the full power that she knew raged between them. Well, she had at least one more day.

There were a couple of things she had to say to him, as well. Things she wanted him to know before they walked away from each other for good.

But now wasn't the time. She shivered when the thought of walking away landed firmly in her mind.

“You cold?” he asked. “Give me a minute to build up the fire and get us a couple more blankets.”

“Are we sleeping out here?” The dumb question came out of her mouth before she thought to keep it
to herself, but she'd never considered sleeping on the floor when they had perfectly good beds in the house.

“Do you mind?” He dragged her up and into his lap. “I promise not to let you get too cold,” he said with a teasing leer.

Marcy studied his beautiful face in the firelight. Behind that wry grin was a mixture of sadness and passion. The combination was confusing and compelling. She cupped his stubbled chin and softly placed her lips to his.

“I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world tonight,” she whispered against his mouth and surprised herself by meaning every word. “But I need to go check on Angie first and make sure she'll be okay until morning.”

He nodded once and brought them both up to stand on shaky feet. “Don't take too long,” he said right before he clamped his mouth down on hers and took her breath away.

When she finally stepped out of his embrace and headed for the guest room, her heart was thumping madly in her chest. One of the things she would not be telling him, was how much she'd come to care. She knew she was slipping over the ragged edge to full-blown love, and the last thing she wanted to do was to make things difficult for him by letting him know.

Angie was sleeping peacefully in her crib. Marcy rubbed her hand across the fine down of hair on her child's head and whispered a little prayer. Nothing in her life was as important as her baby daughter. Noth
ing had been, that is, until Lance walked into their lives.

She made sure the temperature in the baby's room was warm enough and that there were no loose things in the crib. Then she made her way into the guest bathroom to splash some cold water over her face.

When she flipped on the overhead light, she stared at the naked woman she saw looking back at her in the full-length mirror. Her eyes were glazed and sultry, her breasts still taut and high. She ran a finger over full, plump lips that had turned beet red from Lance's caresses.

It turned her on to see what a wild woman she'd become under his tutoring. She picked up a brush and tried to run it through the tangle of curls on her head, but ended up just pinning them off her neck instead.

With her arms raised to her hair, she was fully exposed when Lance appeared behind her in the mirror. She stilled, watching his eyes darken and narrow as they raked over her form in the mirror.

A shot of pure adrenaline pushed through her, fast and dangerously reckless, as she looked at their reflections together in the mirror. Dark and light. Night and day. The contrast was ying and yang, power and glory. It nearly swept her off her feet with need.

Silently he stepped closer to her back while her breasts throbbed and her heart lay like a lump in her throat. He bent and placed his lips against her neck, sending goose bumps cascading along her heated body and wetness to the place between her legs.

He spread his warm golden hand wide on her lower abdomen and pulled her bottom tightly against his
groin. The feel of his full erection, hot and heavy against her back, sent electric jolts of erotic sensation directly to the base of her spine and she nearly fainted. Light-headed with desire, but hesitant to move and break the spell, she moaned and let her head fall back against his chest.

“No, honey,” he whispered in her ear. “Open your eyes and watch.”

Dazed but determined to do as he asked, Marcy propped open her heavy lids. Her gaze met his in the mirror and she gasped as she saw the dangerous passion in his eyes. She felt weak and limp, but he held her fast.

With his free hand, he began rubbing his palm over her chest and up her neck. “Look what happens to your body when I do this,” he said as his fingers tugged gently on her nipples.

He lightly pinched first one and then the other, and she saw her nipple react, growing rosy red and beading against his fingers. His touch grew stronger and more insistent until the tips of her breasts were so sensitive she found herself breathing in little gasps and the pull of arousal had become an agony of pleasure.

But he didn't let up and kept encouraging her to watch them in the mirror. The hand on her belly moved lower, and his fingers slid through the curls of her mound. When he found the place that cried out for him, she saw her own eyes grow wide as the shock of his touch jolted through her. Her hips bucked back against him and he groaned against her ear.

“Keep your eyes open and let go,” he urged.

“It's too much,” she sobbed.

Reaching up behind her head, she grabbed handfuls of his hair, pulling him closer. He licked her earlobe and blew lightly against it, sending chills down her body to compete with the heat moving up from where his thumbs kept steadily rubbing and massaging both her breasts and her most tender nub.