That McCloud Woman (16 page)

She
didn't agree or deny his claim, but he could still see the uncertainties in her
eyes. "It's okay, Alayna. You can touch me. You can do anything you want
to me, whatever feels natural." When she still didn't move, he drew her
hand to his chest and forced her palm open beneath his. He felt the tremble in
her fingers and had to swallow the emotion that rose to his throat. "Talk
to me. Tell me what's going on in that pretty head of yours."

"I—"
She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm afraid I'll do something
wrong. That I won't please you."

"Just
having you touch me is a pleasure." He wrapped an arm at her waist and
drew her down until she was stretched along his length and they were lying
stomach-to-stomach, nose-to-nose. "Now," he said, offering her a soft
smile, "you were saying something about how the hair on my chest was
softer than you thought it would be."

Alayna
drew in a deep breath, silently praying that she wouldn't screw this up.
"Yes," she replied, releasing the breath slowly. "I thought it
would feel coarse. You know, rough."

"Disappointed?"

She
took another deep breath. "No-o-o," she said slowly and shifted so
that she could place her hand on his chest again. She laughed self-consciously.
"In fact, every time you take off your shirt when we're working together,
I have to will myself not to look."

"Why?"

She
shifted again, and her leg slipped between his thighs. "Too
tempting."

Jack
was finding it harder and harder to breathe. And it wasn't Alayna's weight that
was constricting his lungs.

"And
you know what?" she asked him, finding her courage once again.

"What?"

She
bit back a smile. "I love white boxer shorts."

Jack
drew back his head to peer at her. "How'd you know I wear white boxer
shorts?"

She
smiled, pleased to discover that she could shock him. She pressed a nail into
the hollow of his throat and began to trace a line down the middle of his
chest. "I peeked." She rolled to her side, her back snug against the
tub's wall, and let her finger trace lower. Her finger dipped into his navel,
rose, then bumped to a stop against the waist of his jeans. She hesitated a
moment, then forced her fingers to close around the top button of his jeans,
releasing it. "Did you ever see the movie,
Risky Business?"

"I—I'm
not sure." He wasn't even sure of his name, anymore.

"Tom
Cruise starred in it, and there is this scene where he slides across the floor
in a pair of white socks, his shirt open and he's wearing nothing beneath it
but a pair of white boxers." She released another button. "I rented
that movie once, and nearly wore out the tape, replaying that scene over and
over again." Another button popped open at her fingers' urging.
"There's something about a man who wears boxers."

Taking
a deep breath to strengthen her nerve, she slipped her hand into the opening
she'd created and boldly took him into her hand. Her fingers shook slightly,
but it didn't prevent her from feeling the softness of his flesh, the hardness
of his arousal. Nor the heat. Slowly she lifted her gaze to his and found that
same heat in his eyes.

And
she, Alayna McCloud, had put it there.

Emboldened
even more by that knowledge, she leaned closer. "Something
really
sexy," she added in a whisper and closed her mouth
over his.

Jack
couldn't think, couldn't move. He could only feel. And the woman pressed
against him felt damn good. He hadn't intended to let things go this far, but
he was helpless to put an end to it now. He framed her face with his hands,
bringing her face closer, drawing her deeper into the kiss. He probed her mouth
with his tongue, savoring her flavor, her taste, teasing her until she all but
squirmed.

Her
hand tightened around him and began to move slowly up and down his length … and
he knew he was lost. He had to have her, had to make love to her, had to prove
to her that she was capable of pleasing a man.

He
dropped his hands to her shoulders and squeezed, marveling at the delicacy of
her bone structure, the little whimper that escaped her as she pressed closer
against him. Anxious to touch her, to show her what her body was capable of
responding to, he slipped a hand underneath her short top and cupped a breast.

She
gasped, her fingers vising around him.

"Easy,"
he murmured, pressing kisses to her chin, her throat, her chest. He felt her
melt, muscle by slow muscle as he soothed her with his lips. Nudging her
shirt's fabric down with his chin, he closed his mouth over a lace-covered
breast. She arched against him, moaning softly. He smiled against her breast,
then released it, replacing his lips with his hand.

"There's
something else I like about you," he whispered at her ear, as he found the
front hook of her bra.

"What?"

"Your
breasts." He tugged her shirt up and over her head, and her hands went
immediately to her chest, covering her nakedness.

He
lifted his gaze to hers. "What are you doing?"

Her
cheeks, already flushed with passion, reddened even more. "They're so
small," she murmured almost apologetically.

He
pushed her hands out of the way and looked, slipping her bra's straps over her
shoulders and down her arms. He cupped her breasts in his hands as if measuring
them. "They're perfect."

For
some insane reason, Alayna believed him. Maybe it was the tone of his voice. Or
perhaps it was the reverence with which he stroked her breasts. Or maybe it was
the tenderness with which he pressed light kisses there, his breath warm and
moist on her bare skin. Or maybe it was the sensations that spilled through her
when he took her fully into his mouth and gently suckled. But suddenly she
didn't feel lacking. She felt … almost whole.

"Jack?"

"Hmm."

"Make
love to me."

Slowly
he lifted his head and looked at her, his brown eyes searching hers. "Are
you sure?"

She
quickly nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm sure."

Before
he could respond, she sat up and began to pull his jeans and boxers over his
hips. With his help, she freed him of them, then tossed them over the side of
the tub. Struggling in the cramped space, she stripped off her shorts and lace
panties, her hands shaking from a combination of nerves and anticipation. She
dropped them on top of Jack's jeans, then moved to straddle him, her gaze on
his.

"I
want this, Jack," she whispered almost desperately as she reached between
her legs to guide him to her. "I—"

"Alayna.
Wait." He closed his hand over her wrist, stopping her. "I'm not
protected."

She
leaned closer, pressing her mouth over his as she lowered herself over him.
"It's okay," she whispered huskily. "I can't have
children."

Jack
heard her, but was unsure what she meant. Then the words lost their importance
as the softness of her feminine opening met the hardness of his arousal.
"Alayna," he groaned, raising his hips to meet her.

She
arched, sucking in a breath, as he slipped inside her, then groaned, her velvet
walls closing around him instinctively. He grabbed her hips, holding her still,
knowing if she moved so much as a millimeter, he'd lose his seed right then and
there. And he wanted this to last more than he wanted to draw his next breath.

He
waited, his fingers digging into her flesh, until he felt her slowly begin to
relax. Then he began to move. In and out, setting the rhythm, raising his hips,
then lowering them, guiding her with his hands at the curve of her waist, until
she followed him, her movements as free and as spontaneous as the smiles she'd
offered to him so many times over the last weeks.

Capturing
her hand, he drew it to his chest, to his heart. "Do you feel that?"
he asked, and pressed his palm flat over hers. Even through her hand he could
feel the wild pounding of his heart and knew, though she said nothing, that she
must feel it, too. "That's what you do to me," he whispered.
"And this," he added and raised his hips, burying himself deeply
inside her and allowing her to feel the fullness of his arousal. She gasped,
then purred her pleasure, curling her fingers beneath his and digging her nails
into his skin. "You make me want what I have no right to want," he
told her, his voice husky with need. "To wish for things that I have no
right to wish. You're a woman, Alayna, in every sense of the word. A very
seductive woman."

Tears
misted her eyes. "Oh, Jack…"

With
his gaze fixed on hers, he began to move again, slowly at first, teasing her,
then filling her, drawing her closer and closer to a fire that burned within
them both. Passion stained her cheeks, glazed her eyes, while perspiration
beaded her upper lip and dampened the hair at her temples. Jack watched her
face, and knew that she was close. Suddenly she cried out, then tensed, as if
straining to grasp something held just out of her reach.

"Let
go, Alayna." he whispered, watching her. "Let me set you free."

He
thrust hard, bringing her hips to meet his and she cried out again, arching
against him as she accepted his seed. She filled her hands with her hair,
stretching her arms up high, then higher still, letting the long blond strands
drift through her fingers and fall to pool at her shoulders.

Then
she crumpled, melting against his chest on a thready sigh, her heart echoing
the pulsations of her feminine walls around him. He gathered her within his
arms, holding her close to him, and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

Cradled
within the old-fashioned footed tub, he closed his eyes and rested his cheek
against her angel-blond hair.

Slowly
a sense of peace slipped over him.

Eight

«
^
»

T
he sense of
peace Jack experienced after making love with Alayna lasted about as long as
the nap they took together in the tub.

The
phone rang, startling them awake.

Alayna
bolted upright, her hip digging painfully into Jack's groin. She glanced
around, disoriented for a moment, before her gaze settled on Jack's. As she
brought him into focus, a slow smile of remembrance curved her lips and warmed
her eyes. She melted to his chest and covered his mouth with hers.

And
the phone rang again.

She
withdrew reluctantly, replacing her lips with a finger and pressed lightly.
"Hold that thought," she whispered.

She
quickly scrambled from the tub and grabbed the portable phone from the back of
the toilet tank where it rested.

"Hello?"

Her
eyes widened and she grabbed Jack's shirt from the toilet seat and frantically
stuffed her arms through the sleeves as if whoever was on the other end of the
line could see her nakedness. "No! No!" she cried. "You didn't
interrupt anything." She glanced Jack's way and rolled her eyes, then
brushed her hair back from her face and held it on top of her head while she
listened. Her eyes grew even wider.

"Yes.
I've got plenty of room." She fisted her fingers in her hair and pulled it
up away from her head, then released it, letting out a silent whoop of joy.
"Yes, I'll be here this afternoon. No problem." She spun in a tight
circle, hugging the phone to her ear. "Yes, and thank you. Thank you so
much."

Jack
watched as she carefully hit the disconnect button and replaced the phone on
top of the toilet's tank. Then she whirled. "A baby!" she squealed
shrilly. "They're bringing us a baby!"

She
dived over the side of the tub, planting an exuberant kiss on Jack's lips,
then, just as quickly, she was pushing against his chest and popping back to
her feet. "Oh, my stars!" she cried, clapping her hands over her
cheeks. "I've got so much to do!" She grabbed her shorts and tugged
them on, and began reciting a list. "I've got to get the crib down from
the attic. Launder the crib linens and receiving blankets. I've got to
sterilize the bottles—"

She
disappeared through the bathroom doorway, still ticking off her list of things
to do … and left Jack sitting in the tub, naked as the day he was born, staring
after her.

All
Alayna could think about was that a baby was being delivered to her home that
afternoon.

All
Jack could think about was that Alayna had said she couldn't have any children.

She couldn't have kids.

He
laid the shelf across the brackets he'd hung on the wall of the room Alayna had
chosen for the nursery and slapped his level on top.

She couldn't have kids?

What
the hell was that supposed to mean? he asked himself in frustration. Was she on
some type of birth control? Or had she meant that she
physically
couldn't have children? He watched the level's bubble
rock a moment before it finally settled over the center point. He snatched the
level from the shelf and stuffed it into the pocket of the nail apron he had
tied around his waist.