His Secret Child (11 page)

Caleb fumbled with the catch on her bra. "Damn! I can't seem to maneuver this with my left hand, honey." He nipped her neck playfully.

With no doubts or fears, Sheila unhooked the catch of her strapless long-line bra, then allowed Caleb to remove the garment. After dropping the bra to the floor, he held Sheila by one arm, stepped back and surveyed her naked breasts. Aroused and pleased by the sight of her, he sucked in his breath.

She had such lovely breasts. Round and full. Lush without being large. Pink diamond peaks that beckoned his mouth.

His sex hardened. His heart raced. "I want to see all of you," he said. "Every beautiful inch."

She nodded, knowing what he wanted her to do, all the while praying he would not find her thirty-year-old body lacking. She didn't possess the firm body of an eighteen-year-old any longer and her stomach bore the faint scars of pregnancy.

Calling upon all her courage and driven by her desire for this man, she moved away from him and began a slow, uncertain striptease. First, she eased the black pantyhose down her legs, then sat on the edge of the bed and slid them over her feet. Her hands shook when she reached for the lace waistband of her black panties.

Caleb watched her every move, waiting eagerly for the unveiling.

Sheila stood by the bed, and inch by slow, torturous inch, slipped the panties down her hips and legs. When they dropped to her ankles, she kicked them aside. Then she lifted her head and looked directly at him. He smiled, wickedly, sensually, and moved toward her. She trembled from head to toe when he reached out and touched her throat with his fingertips.

"That first time, in the car twelve years ago, I didn't really look at you," he said.

She swallowed hard. "I—I know. It was dark in your car."

"Lady, you've got the greatest pair of legs I've ever seen. Damn, they're a mile long." He ran his fingertip downward, between her breasts, across her belly and into her navel.

She took in a deep breath. "You like—"

"Everything I see," he assured her as he opened his palm and smoothed it down and over her mound. "Now I want to touch and taste what I'm looking at right now." He slid his hand between her legs, urged her thighs apart and massaged her intimately.

Her knees weakened and she suddenly felt very lightheaded. As he continued the assault on her sensitive kernel, her femininity clenched and unclenched, tightening and loosening in preparation. Desire spiraled through her, creating a ravenous longing inside her. When he inserted a couple of his fingers up into the moist depths of her body, she flung back her head and moaned.

"You're so hot and wet." He growled the words as he lowered his mouth to her breast.

"Caleb!" His name came out on a gasping cry.

She swayed on her feet. He gave her a gentle nudge and she fell backward onto the bed. He came down on top of her, straddling her hips. When he kissed her, she responded by opening her mouth to the invasion of his tongue. The moment he took possession of her mouth, she bucked her hips off the bed, pressing her mound against his throbbing arousal.

As she squirmed beneath him, he petted the soft curls at the apex of her thighs and urged her to part her legs once more. He began anew the seduction of her senses, stroking, probing, rubbing, slipping in and out, while his mouth moved from one begging nipple to the other. He lavished attention on each jutted point, laving, sucking, nibbling.

The heat built inside her to the boiling point, threatening to explode at any moment. He encouraged her to achieve fulfillment, with every caress of his fingers, each lick of his tongue. She had never known anything so unbearably intense, so incredibly wild, so completely uncontrollable. She was lost in a world of sensation, consumed by Caleb's masterful touch. With one final flick of his tongue across her breast, one last perfect pressure to her core, Caleb released the pleasure inside her. She cried out, stunned by the power of her climax.

Leaving her briefly, Caleb divested himself of his tuxedo pants and black briefs. With a quick, hard thrust he entered her and for one brief instant he thought he would die from the pleasure. Nothing had ever been this good. This right.

Sheila wrapped her long legs around him and urged him to take his own pleasure. He rode her hard, like a madman, crazed by passion. She clung to his shoulders as the bed shook from the force of his lunges. With each repeated attack, her body tightened more and more, trying to hold on to the bucking bronc, seeking once again the ultimate sensation.

He mumbled rough, crude words in her ear. And when he hammered into her, she shivered as she unraveled with her second release. Caleb convulsed with the throes of completion, his big body shaking as he uttered a long, low, animalistic groan.

Dropping to her side on the bed, he threw his arm across her belly. She laid her hand over his. As his chest rose and fell with the rapid beat of his heart, he sighed contentedly. Sheila cuddled her head against his shoulder.

He kissed her damp forehead. "That was incredible," he said. "You were incredible. And you loved it, didn't you, honey?"

"Yes." She hid her face against his shoulder.

"I don't know how much experience you've had," he said, "but I guess you know that it isn't always like that. Not always that powerful."

"It's been a long time for me," she told him. "I suppose I was long overdue."

"Yeah, it's been a while for me, too. But something tells me that when we do it again, it'll be just as good. Maybe better."

"Do it again?" She lifted her head and gazed into his twinkling black eyes.

He speared his fingers through the dusty blond curls covering her mound. "I want you to stay all night, remember? I don't think either one of us has appeased our appetite yet, do you? I figure we'll both be hungry again before morning."

He eased his arm under her, clasping her shoulder. She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. She'd never known anything so absolutely perfect as the feel of his body next to hers.

Caleb woke slowly, languidly, and found a woman in his bed. But not just any woman, he thought. Sheila. He smiled when he recalled how Sheila had given herself to him with wild abandon, holding back nothing, reveling in the pure, honest emotions he had evoked from her. She didn't possess the smooth, practiced wiles of the more experienced women he'd bedded, and that pleased him. There had been nothing lacking in the experience they'd shared. Raw, primitive and fully satisfying, their lovemaking had been the sweetest thing he'd ever known.

The light they'd left on in the living room spread down the hallway and shed a pale, hazy glow over the bedroom. He glanced at the bedside clock. Four-fifteen. It would be daybreak soon and the night would end. And Sheila would leave him.

He eased the sheet from her body, exposing her breasts. He wondered if she had breast-fed Danny, and an unexpected tinge of jealousy jolted him at the thought that it had been Daniel Vance who had been Sheila's husband for seven years. That he had been the man to whom she had given her body and her heart—the man who had fathered her child. Caleb knew he had no right to envy a dead man and yet on some primordial level, he did. He felt that Sheila was his now and he wanted to claim her completely, and along with her, her son. He had assured her that he wouldn't allow Danny to become overly attached to him, but how the hell was he going to pursue a relationship with the mother without including the child?

He'd never had an ongoing relationship with a woman who had a kid, so this was a first for him. When he put his life back together and knew what he was going to do for the next twenty or thirty years, he'd leave Crooked Oak behind, the way he had twelve years ago. And the one thing he didn't want, the one thing he had to prevent, was hurting Sheila and Danny when he left. He would continue being honest with both of them. He wanted to be Sheila's lover and Danny's friend, but he couldn't make a commitment to them, nothing beyond the present.

Apparently Sheila had changed her mind and was willing to accept a short-term affair; otherwise, she wouldn't be here with him right now.

Caleb pulled the sheet away from her body, revealing her broad hips and long legs … and the soft, thick triangle of curls. His sex hardened and longing raced through his bloodstream. She possessed a woman's body, natural in every aspect. Imperfect and yet beautiful.

More than anything in the world, he wanted to make love to her again, to ease the ache of desire building steadily inside him.

He kissed her shoulder. She didn't stir. He licked the same spot. She stirred slightly. He gently nipped her skin. She moaned.

Caleb slipped his hand between her thighs as he leaned over and drew one soft nipple into his mouth.

Sheila's eyelids fluttered. "Caleb?"

He suckled her breast and massaged her core. Taking in a deep, startled breath, she opened her eyes.

"Caleb, what—"

He lifted his head from her breast, brought his lips to hers and took her mouth with searing intensity. Her sex dampened and throbbed as he ravaged her mouth and continued the delicate probe of her body. Her breasts swelled as heat spread through her veins.

Sheila opened her mouth, inviting him into the warmth. He accepted the invitation, plunging his tongue inside and drinking the sweetness. When she tried to pull him to her, urging him to mount her, he refused her nonverbal request. Instead he deepened the kiss and increased the speed of his plundering fingers.

She realized that he intended to pleasure her before taking her, so she gave herself over to him, accepting his command. He sucked at her lips, nibbling and tasting, while his talented fingers caressed with ever-growing urgency. The tension within her coiled tighter and tighter, taking her deeper and deeper into the darkness. Caleb licked a line from her mouth to her chest, slowly, patiently, as if he had all the time in the world. When his tongue touched her pebble-hard nipple, she cried out from the pleasurable pain and plunged to the very depths of sensation. Then the spring of pleasure inside her snapped and uncoiled, bringing her upward. Higher and higher. She writhed and moaned and completely fell apart.

While ripples of completion echoed through her body, Caleb lifted her up and over him. With her legs straddling him, she took the dominant position. Gazing down at him through passion-filled eyes, Sheila visually devoured him. Bronze skin taut over hard muscles, black curling chest hair and dark rosy-brown nipples. She felt his thick, heavy arousal pulsing beneath her.

She wanted him inside her, filling her, stretching her, giving her even more pleasure. Maneuvering her hand between her thighs, she reached out and circled his stiff sex. He moaned when she touched him. She guided him into her and took him completely, straining to bury him deeply. He grabbed her hips and bucked upward, impaling her.

She cried out, tossed back her head and clutched his shoulders. As he began a steady rhythmic undulation, he caressed her buttocks, then grasped them and taught her the rhythm. She leaned into him, offering him her breasts. Lifting his head, he washed first one and then the other begging nipple, leaving both tight and damp. She changed the pace, taking complete control and setting the tone for their lovemaking. He acquiesced to her wishes, quickly adapting to the slow, pounding massage that led them closer and closer to the edge.

As the sensual dance progressed, she quickened the pace to a brutal frenzy. Release hit her hard, rocking her body with its force. She cried and moaned and twisted, draining every ounce of fulfillment from her body. Caleb tumbled her over onto her back and hammered into her repeatedly, then clenched his teeth tightly, groaning, shivering, crying out, as he jetted into her.

Holding her close, he covered her face with kisses. "Ah, Sheila, Sheila."