First Lady (31 page)

His eyes narrowed. “I’ve tried to point out the obvious . . .”

“The fact that I threaten you?”

He paused, then he deliberately cupped one hand over her breast and thumbed the nipple. “You do like to live dangerously.”

She turned her face away. “I want you to get off me and go away.”

“Not a chance in the world.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“About five minutes too late.”

She gazed back up at him. “You intend to force me?”

“Damn straight.”

“Oh.” She tried to look bored. “Get it over with, then.”

He chuckled and drew a gentle spiral around her nipple with his thumb. “An army of Secret Service couldn’t rescue you now.”

It was getting harder and harder to remain indifferent. “You cad.”

His tone softened, and the hand at her breast grew even more gentle. “Give it up, Nell. Just give it up, so we can make love the way we both want to.”

“My name is Nealy.” She needed to hear him say it. She needed to make certain he knew who he was making love to.

He took a deep breath. “Nealy.”

“Not easy, is it?” She couldn’t quite manage the breezy note she wanted.

“If you don’t shut up,” he said softly, “I’m going to gag you.”

“I think I should get up now.”

“Don’t say you weren’t warned.” His lips brushed hers, then settled over her mouth, silencing any other protests she might have made. As his body pressed against hers, his kiss stripped away the last of her stubbornness. He was good at that.

Suddenly he jerked away and sank back on the mattress with a muffled curse. “I don’t believe this.”

Her eyes flew open. Once again he’d remembered who she was. Or maybe it was something more fundamental. “There wasn’t anything wrong with that kiss!”

His smile looked forced. “The kiss was out of this world. It’s what we’re leading up to that’s complicated.” He caressed her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. “Sweetheart, I’ve got a whole box of condoms. Unfortunately, they’re on the other side of that wall.”

She regarded him smugly “Lucky for us, I’m better organized. Look in my satchel.” Thank goodness she’d left it here when she finished putting on Button’s pajamas.

“The world can’t be this good. ” He shot off the bed and returned a few moments later with the box. Then he took up right where he’d left off.

Their mouths met hungrily, and she didn’t think she’d ever get enough of kissing him. He rolled her on top of him. She cradled his big, square jaw in her hands, angled her head, and reveled in taking control.

The kiss was subtly different with her in charge—clumsier, maybe, and not as well practiced, but eager . . . oh, so eager. She drew back and gazed down at those hot steel eyes, that tough mouth, softened now with desire. She shifted her position, hooked her foot around his calf, centered her breasts over his chest—romped on top of his great big body.

He groaned. “I hope you’re having a good time because you’re killing me.”

“Good.” She smiled down at him. “You’re killing me, too.”

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. ”

One of his hands slipped to the inside of her thigh. “You feel wonderful. For days, this is all I’ve been able to think about.”

She smiled and toyed with his earlobe. “All I’ve been able to think about is seeing you naked. All of you.”

“You want to see me naked?”

“Very much.” Without waiting for permission, she slid off him and rose to her knees. “Stand up so I can enjoy the view.”

“You sure you’re ready for this?” He slowly uncoiled.

“I think I can handle it.” She pulled off his T-shirt, then touched the elastic waistband of his shorts. He watched with half-closed lids as she drew them down an inch at a time. Her eyes widened. “Where’s your underwear?”

“In the dryer.” His drawl took on a delightfully menacing edge. “You got a problem with that?”

“I don’t know. Let me see.” She dallied with his navel for a moment, playing the part of a sexual tease, but really giving herself a little time to adjust. Finally she tugged the shorts away from the heaviness they weren’t doing anything to conceal.

The sight was stupendous, but she hadn’t nearly begun to look her fill when she was on her back again.

“Hey! I wasn’t finished looking.”

“Another time. We have all night.”

“Then what’s the rush?”

“Only a woman could ask a question like that. A very smart, sexy woman . . .” He nuzzled her neck, trifled with the corner of her mouth, drew her into another deep kiss. Then his hands moved to her clothes and, before she knew it, she was as naked as he.

He drew back far enough to gaze down at her too-thin body, and she began to wish she hadn’t turned on the lamp. But she saw no criticism in his expression, only desire.

His mouth softened in a sensual smile; his hand covered her breast. He gave a ragged groan as her fingers closed around him. She rose to her knees and let her hands play where they wanted. Before long, their limbs were entwined, their mouths wild.

He pulled away with effort, knelt beside her, and cupped his hands over her knees. Their eyes met, and his look told her this would be slow. First, he intended to see her, and he expected her to submit to his wicked curiosity.

She relaxed her legs, but didn’t part them. In an age of casual sex, her reticence might be old-fashioned, but she wanted this to be a gift to him. A gift that needed to be opened by the recipient.

Maybe he understood because his hands grew firmer around her knees. With gentle pressure he began to ease them apart.

She felt like a very young, very virginal bride. If she was no longer quite so young, it didn’t matter, and if she was still almost virgin, that hadn’t been her intention.

His hands slid onto her thighs, pushing them upward, opening them farther, making her increasingly vulnerable. A pulse throbbed at the base of his throat. He was fully aroused and very determined.

A ribbon of warm breeze curled from beneath the curtain and blew across that hot, moist place she was revealing to him. He gazed down at everything, and the look in his eyes grew fierce and territorial.

He shifted his position and brushed the light brown curls with his thumb. She gave a hiss of pleasure as he parted her in the most intimate way.

His finger touched her, and she sucked in her breath. He was so gentle for such a strong man. As he explored her, she felt as if he were marking his territory. Then he dipped his head and marked it with his mouth.

His dark, crisp hair brushed her inner thighs. She felt the tug of his lips, the nip of his teeth. With her eyes open, she stared at the ceiling, fighting the ecstasy because she couldn’t bear for it to end so quickly. But all the years of self-control hadn’t made her strong enough to resist this.

“Don’t,” she moaned. “Not until . . . I don’t want . . . Not until you’re inside me.”

He gazed up at her, his eyes dark with passion, his skin sleek with sweat. And then his powerful body settled over her smaller one. She felt sheltered, protected, and exquisitely threatened. Once she let this man inside her body, nothing would ever be the same again.

His entry was slow and determined, and although her body was slick with passion, she didn’t accept him easily. His kissed her . . . soothed her . . . pressed deeper . . . deeper still . . .

She clutched his shoulders against the stinging stretch, pressed her cheek so hard against his jaw that his beard abraded her skin. When he was finally buried, she gave a sob.

He kissed the corners of her eyes, her mouth, caressed her breasts. Only then did he move in a slow, hard thrust . . .

She sobbed and arched.

He began to move in earnest. The muscles in his back and shoulders quivered beneath her palms, and the slow, deep throb inside her built. Nothing existed but the bed, their bodies, a lush, blazing wildness.

Thrust and withdraw. Arch and accept.

The ancient rhythms pushed them into oblivion.

Contentment radiated from her in waves, and that made Mat feel so good he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He rubbed her shoulder. She was soft everywhere. Soft, sweet, and irresistible.

Her hair brushed his chin, and she curled a bare leg over his. If she moved her leg much farther, she’d discover that he was hard again, something he didn’t want her to figure out quite yet. She needed some time. Hell, so did he. Not time for his body to adjust, but his mind.

Her breath tickled his chest hair as she spoke. “That was fabulous.”

She had no idea.

It shouldn’t have been so good. It should have been intimidating, considering who she was. Setting that aside, it should have been what sex generally was to him, a great time with a nice lady. But this particular lady hadn’t been all that nice. She’d been snooty and snappy, deliberately provoking, exciting in ways he’d never expected.

And what he couldn’t seem to take in . . . this
thing
that he kept trying to push out of his mind only to have it jump right back in . . . it seemed impossible, but everything inside him told him that she’d been new at this. Very new.

He shied away from the idea, only to have it return. She’d been like somebody seeing Paris for the first time, or riding her first roller coaster, or learning how to scuba dive. She hadn’t been with anybody. Not even her dead husband, the former President of the United States.

It was knowledge he could never use. He accepted that. But he still wanted to confirm it. Not for a story, but for himself.

She’d started doodling on his chest. “I know I’m too skinny. Thank you for not mentioning it.”

He smiled. Women and their bodies. He’d heard every complaint in the book, right down to one sister insisting her thumbs were too fat and another who’d spent three days with her thighs bound in Saran Wrap.

“Women starve themselves to have a body like yours.”

“It’s too skinny.”

That was true, but her thinness was part of her identity. It was as if her enthusiasm for life burned up the food she ate before it could settle anywhere. He put his hand over her stomach. “In case you haven’t noticed, your stomach isn’t as flat as it was the day we met.”

She shoved his hand out of the way and replaced it with her own. “Yes, it is. I can’t feel anything.”

He hid his smile in her hair. “Sure, it feels flat now because you’re lying down, but when you get up, you’ll see that you’re getting a belly.”

“I am not!”

He laughed.

She rolled on top of him to wrestle the laugh away and immediately discovered his secret. Her eyes widened with delight. “Son of a gun.”

In an instant, he had her beneath him.

Lucy crept into the house with Button in her arms and Squid lumbering behind. Just once she wished her sister would sleep past six-thirty. She gazed at the baby resentfully. “If you make a single sound, I’m going to be really mad. I mean it. You’ve got to keep quiet.”

“Tak!” She poked her fingers in Lucy’s mouth.

Lucy frowned at her and carried her to the stairs. If it weren’t for her sister, she could have packed up her stuff this morning, walked out to the highway, and hitchhiked to California or somewhere before Mat could get hold of her. But she was trapped until Button was safe. That didn’t mean, though, that she wasn’t going to disappear for a while this morning. Mat was always grouchy when he woke up, even when nothing was wrong. Just think how he’d be today.

The baby tucked her face into Lucy’s neck. Lucy knew she was going to have slobber all over her, but she didn’t mind. It was hard being responsible for Button, but it was nice knowing there was one person in the world who loved her.

By the time they reached the top of the stairs, the baby had gotten heavy and Lucy’s arms were hurting. She set her down in the hallway and slipped the key into the lock as quietly as she could. She winced against the clicking sound as she turned it, but she didn’t hear any noise coming from the other side of the door.

The baby started crawling after Squid. Lucy hurried after her and picked her up.

“Lal!”

Lucy smeared her hand over her mouth. More slobber. She carried her back to the door and whispered in her ear to be quiet. Then she pulled her hand away and slowly turned the knob.

The door gave a little creak as she pushed it open. As much as she wanted to reassure herself that everything was okay again with Mat and Nell, she didn’t look at the bed because she’d be grossed out if she saw anything. Instead, she set Button on the floor inside and closed the door.

The moment the lock clicked, she and Squid fled downstairs and out the front door. There was a Dunkin’ Donuts not too far away. The two of them would hang out there until the stores opened, then they’d walk around downtown. She only hoped Mat and Nell had both cooled down by the time she came back.

“
Gah!
”

Mat peeled his eyes open and squinted against the light. He’d lost count of how many times they’d made love during the night, and he wasn’t nearly ready for morning.

Nealy was curled against him, and he shifted his hand so it covered her breast. It made a soft, warm weight in his palm. His lids drooped. He settled back around her.

Something wet and sharp invaded his ear canal.

He twisted his head and stared into a beaming baby face.

“Daaaaaa . . .”

He groaned. “Aww, man . . .”

She slapped the mattress with her hands, then reached toward him. He glanced toward the closed door, but Lucy had beat a hasty retreat.

“DA . . . DA . . . DA . . . DA!” The baby squealed and beat on the mattress like a bongo.

Nealy stirred next to him. The Demon squealed louder, the familiar mulish look on her face declaring she was a woman to be reckoned with. He reached over, scooped her up, and dumped her on his chest.

She beamed at him and dropped some spit on his chin. “Daaaa . . .”

Nealy turned, her eyes slowly opening.

The Demon gave a delighted shriek and dug her knees into his belly. Seconds later, she plopped on top of Nealy.

Nealy let out an
oof
, then her forehead crumpled in distress. “Oh, Mat!”