Cara O'Shea's Return (12 page)

She swallowed the remembered humiliation rising like a fountain within her. Her voice was low and rough when she answered. “Graduation night, eight years ago.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “We’ve never talked about that night, have we?” Comprehension darkened his blue eyes, even as his smile faded.

“And we aren’t going to.” She turned to leave. He stopped her by wrapping his long fingers around her upper arm. She glanced down at his hand and sighed. “I’m tired, Finn. Lock the door on your way out.”

He didn’t release her. Instead, the tip of his finger moved her chin to face him. “Hey.” He cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing across her cheekbone in a gentle caress. He released her arm to frame her face with his palms. “Do you know what I remember from that night?”

She lifted her chin in heated defiance. “A drunk, half naked, genetic freak?”

“Genetic freak? What the hell?” His narrowed eyes were so focused on her she wanted to shrink from the intensity of them. When he spoke, his words were crisp and clear. “I remember a frightened, seventeen-year-old girl with the body of a goddess and the regality of a queen, facing down a pack of idiot teenage boys. You were thrust into a situation that would have made anyone cower, Cara, and yet you stood there with your quiet dignity, and shamed everyone.”

She searched his face with wary eyes, seeking the truth that would put a lie to his words—words that oozed over her memory of that night like a healing balm. She found only sincerity.

He explored her face with his eyes, from her brows, over her cheekbones to her mouth. When his eyes rose again to meet hers, her breath caught at the burning desire in them. Her heart galloped like a wild horse in her chest.

“You took my breath away that night, Cara.” Slowly, he lowered his head until his mouth was a whisper from hers. “You still take my breath away.”

His mouth covered hers. He didn’t touch her anywhere but where his hands rested against her face and where his lips rubbed across hers. As with the last kiss, fire exploded through her system, urging her to press closer until nothing separated them and she could once again feel the hard angles of his body molding to her soft curves. She whimpered softly at the loss when his mouth left hers, only then realizing her eyes had drifted shut at the first brush of his mouth. They fluttered open to find him watching her.

The hot blue flame of desire burning in his eyes seduced her, and her heart soared. She was completely off balance, suffering residual emotion from talking to her father, but that didn’t matter. Even if it was only for this moment, she didn’t want to resist Finn’s seduction. She’d loved him for so long—wanted to hold him, to be held by him, and know the joy of becoming one with him.

Acting on those wants might be the mistake of her life, but she was beyond caring. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his.

His lips crushed hers, while his arms wrapped around her and pulled her so tightly to him, the powerful thud of his heart thundered against her breasts. He urged her mouth open, and shyly her tongue met the demanding thrust of his. When he broke the kiss to lean his forehead on hers, she swayed in his arms, dazed and confused.

“Let me love you, Cara.”

She thrilled at the husky timber of his voice. Nuzzling her forehead to his, she spoke from the heart, knowing he wouldn’t understand the deeper meaning of her words. “I want you to love me.”

He compressed her ribs in a bone crushing squeeze before loosening his hold enough for her to breathe. He dropped his chin to the top of her head. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“Then we’d better find a bed, or we’re going to end up on your hardwood floor.”

Untangling from his arms, she stepped back, the forgotten bottle of wine dangling from her fingers. He sighed inwardly. Had she changed her mind? Did she mean to call a halt to the madness gripping them both? Relief crashed through him when she wrapped her fingers around his, and led him up the stairs to her apartment.

Neither of them spoke until she stopped beside a queen-sized bed in her small bedroom. She set the wine bottle on the nightstand and gazed at him. Her beautiful eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty.

“I don’t know what to do.”

He stilled and narrowed his attention on her face. Her nervousness broadcast itself in the lowering of her eyes, the blush on her cheeks. Every raging instinct in his body ground to a halt.

Jesus, was she a virgin?

He couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept. She stood beside her bed, this woman with a body designed to temp men to sin, and stared at him with the eyes of an innocent. He should end this now, while he still could.

Hell, who was he kidding? He had passed the stopping stage when she led him up those stairs.

Inhaling a deep breath and forcing his overheated body to relax, he ran a soothing hand over her shoulder, down her arm and up again.

“Have you ever been with a man, baby?”

“I...yes, once.” Two flags of color bloomed on her cheeks. Her eyes slid shut.

His heart was going to explode in his chest.

“Hey.” She continued to stand before him with her eyes squeezed tight. “Hey.” She opened her eyes. He cocked his head and tried to reassure her. “It’s like riding a bike. Once you’ve learned...”

She laughed as he meant her to. “I’m nervous.”

Lifting her hand, he pressed her palm against his chest, directly above his frantically beating heart. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Me too. We’ll take it slow. If I do something you don’t like, tell me. If I do something you like, feel free to beg for more.” He grinned unapologetically, pleased when the nerves faded from her eyes with a smile.

Leaving her hand over his heart, he reached for the top button of her blouse. She stood silently while his fingers dispensed with each of the tiny buttons. In no time, he peeled back the lapels and surveyed what he exposed.

“You’re beautiful.”

He bent at the knees, leaning forward to glide his lips along her delicate collarbone. The open material of her blouse slid over the velvet soft skin of her shoulders at the urging of his hands, riding his wrists until it slithered down her arms to drop to the floor on a whisper.

Her head dropped back helplessly when his mouth moved to one shoulder, nipping gently at the sensitive tendon there. She shivered.

“I’ve wanted to do this almost from the first time I saw you.” With his tongue, he laved at the nip, leaving a warm, moist trail as he explored her neck.

She swayed against him, and he lifted his head. He studied the color across her cheekbones before his gaze dropped to her breasts, half hidden from his hungry view by a frilly confection of white silk and lace. His gaze continued down over her flat stomach to the clasp at the top of the white Capri pants molding her curves like a jealous lover.

The button and zipper fell victim to his experienced fingers, and sliding his palms over her hips, he peeled away the light material until her slacks joined the blouse on the floor. A low groan escaped him and every muscle in his body tightened with his first look at Cara O’Shea in nothing but a white lace demi-bra and thong.

He wanted to swallow her whole.

****

His eyes, when they met hers, were a piercing, laser blue. She went into his arms amazed and pleased she had put that fire in them. His kiss was urgent, and spoke of a hunger she understood. Just as hungry for the taste and feel of him, her fingers jerked at the material of his shirt as he lowered her gently to the bed.

He levered his body away from hers, and with one muscular arm, yanked the shirt up and over his head. Rippling muscle and sinew, perfectly formed and forged by years of intense athletic training, made her sigh in helpless appreciation. Fascinated, she caressed the light spray of dark curls, brushing testing strokes over the solid muscle.

His crooked, dimpled smile encouraged her to continue her exploration, and her fingers followed the narrow band of hair down from his chest to where the trail disappeared behind the snap of his jeans. Taut stomach muscles quivered at her light touch, and when her fingers hesitated at his navel, he met her gaze.

His voice was graveled and his eyes dark. “It’s up to you, baby. We’re going wherever you want to go.”

“I wouldn’t complain if you kissed me again.”

He grinned, and complied. As he made love to her mouth, her hands roamed, brushing, squeezing, flexing against the strength so evident in his back and chest. Before long, the pleasant exploration wasn’t enough, and she broke her mouth away to stare up at him, her breathing erratic.

She attacked the snap of his jeans shamelessly, and smiled at his encouraging, dark laugh. His hands joined hers in her haste, shoving his jeans down over his hips. With a quick twist and a well-placed kick, the denim went flying off the foot of the bed and a nearly naked Finn leaned over her. He slipped a thickly muscled thigh between her legs.

It was an unfamiliar sensation, to feel small and vulnerable, and she found to her amazement, the awareness only increased her excitement. The width of his shoulders all but eclipsed the dimming afternoon light from the window behind him, and she shuddered when the tips of his fingers traced the skin just above the lace of her bra.

With his eyes burning into hers, he hooked a finger in the lacy material, tugging until a rosy nipple popped free. He dipped his dark head, and her breath caught at the stab of his tongue on the tightened bud. Her sigh came out in a ragged whoosh when he blew a gentle breath across the rosy crest. He flashed her a dizzying smile before lowering his head once more and taking her full into his mouth.

Heat exploded through her like a flash fire. She arched her back, and thrilled at his deep rumble of encouragement. He flicked open the front clasp of her bra to brush away the frilly barrier and treated her other breast to the same adoration.

Fingers buried in his thick hair, she held his head to her as he feasted on her heated flesh. She moaned in disappointment when his mouth retreated, and he laughed wickedly. Trailing a nibble of kisses down the fluttering muscles of her stomach, he paused at her navel, devoting time to that mysterious dimple. His mouth left a heated trail downward, pausing at the band of her panties. He fingered the tiny scrap of lace and met her gaze from beneath sensually lowered lashes.

“Do we need these?”

Unable to speak, she shook her head, and he peeled the thong down her legs. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward to press a kiss to the auburn curls hiding her most secret place.

When she closed her eyes and shuddered, the bed moved as he levered up and left her. Her eyes flew open to find him standing at the foot of the bed. He met her gaze, bending to pick up his jeans and pull several packets from the pocket. Walking to the side of the bed, he dropped them on the nightstand, before tossing the jeans to the floor once more. She swallowed as he pushed his navy briefs down over his hips and kicked out of them, then stood there letting her look her fill.

She stared, eyes wide.

He’d always been beautiful to her, but naked, he was beyond words. His body was surely the way God had intended the male form to be. Like a warrior of old, he carried the scars of battle, including the angry slash bisecting his left knee. The imperfections only added to the impression of pure male strength.

Below impossibly wide shoulders, his strong arms resembled sculpted teakwood. Dark hair sprinkled the muscled plates of his chest, spreading to each tight nipple and running down in a thin line to flare once at his navel and again at his groin. His chest tapered to ridged stomach muscles and lean hips. Between long, thick thighs, the proof of his desire stood strong and intimidating.

Though she didn’t ask, she wished he would turn around. She’d had a thing for his butt since the first time she saw him in those shiny white football pants. But a butt view would be overkill at this point, when she was already struggling to breathe.

Without a word, he placed a knee on the side of the bed. Leaning down, he feasted his way up her body. His mouth tasted the skin at her shins and knees, thighs and hips. He lingered over her stomach and breasts, her shoulders and neck. Everywhere he ventured, he called forth another shockingly exciting response. His mouth tasted, his hands molded and tested, he even used his body to stoke the flames threatening to burn her alive. Like a master musician he played her, with the nuzzle of a scratchy jaw here, and the rub of muscled thigh there, and by the time his mouth claimed hers once again, she writhed beneath him.

Her hands raced over his broad shoulders and grasped at his thick biceps, trying to drag him closer. Frantically, her body arched into his until he settled himself between her thighs and closed his mouth over hers in a kiss that brought her molten bones to flash point.

She whimpered, and her fingernails left tiny crescents where they dug into the muscled strength of his arms. Lifting his head, he rose above her. His eyes never leaving hers, he grabbed a packet from the nightstand. Strong white teeth ripped at the foil, and levering on one muscled arm, he covered himself.

Though dazed with passion, she knew some of her sudden nervousness must have shown in her eyes, when he paused to softly kiss her mouth in reassurance.

“I won’t hurt you, Cara. I promise.”

The ripple of desire coursing through his big body when he resettled himself against her feminine cradle did more to calm her nerves than his words.
She’d
done that to him. A sense of feminine power filled her, and she reveled in the knowledge she wasn’t the only one drowning in this river of need.

Bracing on his forearms, he linked his fingers with hers. She smiled at him. He lowered his head to cover her mouth, merging her throaty moan with his as he slipped inside her.

The blind pleasure of being one with the man she’d loved most of her life nearly left her breathless, and when he began to move, she did indeed know what to do. She met and matched him in the sensual dance, and when she reached paradise, hurtling over the edge, she took him with her.