The Mysterious Stranger (Triple Trouble) (24 page)

“I want you,” she said easily, as if she’d spoken the words a thousand times before. As if this wasn’t the first time they’d fallen from her lips. Perhaps it was easy because she’d wanted Jarrett for so long.

He dropped his hands to her bare shoulders and massaged her. He dipped down and licked the sensitive valley between her breasts. A thrill shot through her. The round flesh swelled more and she instinctively arched her back to give him more access. Her nipples were hard, tight buds. She wanted him to touch her there as he had a few nights before, only this time she didn’t want the barrier of clothing between her hungry body and his hands.

He reached behind her and found the dress’s zipper. Long, lean fingers tugged it down. She felt the dress begin to slide to the ground.

Her first instinct was to grab it so she could cover herself. Then she reminded herself this was Jarrett. Not only did she want him, she trusted him. She let the garment slip over her hips before it pooled at her feet.

He raised his head and swore softly. The harsh word excited her as she caught the gleam of appreciation in his eyes. His dark gaze took in the strapless bra, her lace panties and the thigh-high stockings clinging to her legs.

She squared her shoulders, half proud, half nervous. She wanted him to want her. She wanted to reduce him to a quivering mass. The only problem was, she didn’t know what to do with him when she got him that way. Pray God he could take charge.

Jarrett did. He gave her a smile that promised paradise, then bent and picked her up in his arms. Instinctively, she clung to him.

“My room is right here,” she said.

“I know, but I’ve been dreaming about having you in my bed.”

The possessiveness in his voice combined with the admission that he’d been thinking about them being together increased her nervousness. Maybe she should tell him the truth.

“Jarrett, I—”

He dropped his mouth to hers. Without thinking, she parted her lips and he swept inside.

His tongue stroked against hers. Heat flared between them. She could feel his hard chest against her side and the strength in his arms. Their breath mingled and she could not imagine a place she would rather be. It was as if she’d been born to be in his arms.

When he reached his room, he pushed the door open, then kicked it shut behind him. Not breaking their kiss, he brushed against a light switch on the wall and a lamp came on in the corner. The faint illumination showed a large bed in the center of the room. Jarrett headed for that and placed her gently on the spread.

At last he released her mouth. “Second thoughts?” he asked. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

Her senses were scattered, as if she’d been caught in a vortex of sensual pleasure. The world didn’t spin exactly, but it wasn’t as stable as she was used to. If this was passion, then that one taste had only whetted her appetite for more.

Stop? Why? “No second thoughts,” she managed to say. She reached for his bow tie and pulled one end.

He grinned and shrugged out of his jacket. “Good. I would have stopped, but I would have been cranky as a bear.”

“We can’t have that,” she said. “We must—”

He stopped her words with another kiss. As he teased her mouth, he lowered her onto the mattress. She relaxed beneath him, letting his broad chest shelter her.

There was much to explore, much to learn. She placed her fingers on his shoulders, then moved them lower across his back. Muscles bunched and released, rippling under her tentative touch. The contrast—his smooth, cool shirt, his hard, hot body—excited her.

One of his legs pressed possessively across hers. As her hand slipped lower, she felt the waistband of his trousers. Beyond that was the high, round swell of his buttocks. Hoping their deep kiss was enough to distract him, she boldly let her fingers trail along that curve.

Instantly his pelvis pressed into her. She felt something hard nestle against her hip. It was, she realized, the essence of his maleness—the proof of how much he wanted her.

“I wish you knew what you did to me,” he told her as he slipped one hand behind her and unfastened her bra.

He worked the hooks expertly and drew the boned garment away. Before he touched her, he looked at her. “Beautiful,” he whispered, and she felt that way. For now. For him.

He drew his hand around her rib cage then up higher to cup her bare breast. Her fingers curled into her palm. The heat between her thighs increased and she had the strongest urge to thrust toward him.

As his fingers circled her, moving closer to her taut peak, she found herself focusing completely on the perfect pleasure rippling through her. It was like heat with an edge. Tension increased and she found herself straining as if toward a goal.

At last he touched her nipple. He brushed the pad of his thumb against the tight tip. She bit her lower lip to keep from calling out. Her eyes drifted closed. He shifted, but she barely noticed. Then his mouth closed over her other breast.

Damp warmth caressed her. His tongue teased her. Forefinger and thumb matched the movements on her other breast. It was like a sensual dance, point and counterpoint, increasing her desire, like a wheel picking up speed on a steep hill. She couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. There was only the man and the magic he created.

She didn’t know she was making a sound until he lifted his head and smiled at her. “I love how you say my name.”

“Am I?” She felt the heat on her cheeks.

“Like a prayer. Don’t stop.”

Don’t stop. That’s what she wanted to say to him. Don’t stop touching me this way. Don’t stop making me feel these things.

He read her mind. He returned his attention to her breasts, then one hand slipped lower, across her belly to the elastic edge of her panties. This time her hips did rise toward him, as if helping him achieve some goal that heretofore had been hidden from her.

When he tugged at the scrap of silk, she didn’t protest. When he dropped his mouth from her breast to her rib cage, her whimper was barely audible. New pleasures distracted her.

He moved again, this time kneeling between her legs. He kissed her belly, then each hipbone. His hands rubbed up and down her thighs. With each sweep, his thumbs moved perilously close to her hot, damp center. Anticipation grew as did her restlessness. She wanted—she needed.

“Jarrett,” she murmured.

“Soon,” he promised.

Soon. Was he right? Would she finally experience all she’d read and heard about? Would the earth move and the heavens open? Did that really happen?

Before she could figure out a way to ask that question without sounding like a complete dork, he crouched down and pressed his tongue against her most secret place. The sensation was so amazing, so consuming, she didn’t have heart or breath to protest. Instead, shameless and wanton, she dug her heels into the bed, raised her hips and pleaded, “Again.”

He chuckled against her. “I thought you’d like that.”

Like wasn’t exactly the word she would have used. Adored. Loved. This feeling, the arousing, mind-numbing perfection that his tongue invoked was the stuff of dreams. She hadn’t known feelings like this existed.

He explored and teased, then found a steady rhythm that caught her up in a journey from which there was no escape. She found herself panting and tensing, surging forward toward an unseen destination. He worked magic between her thighs, and as the pressure increased and she again called his name, he slipped one finger into her and stroked her from the inside.

The combination could not be survived. She exploded into starlight—shattered yet whole. In that space of time, with her body rippling and with Jarrett urging her to more and then more, she understood what it meant to love and be loved, why couples faced everything just to be together.

When the last ripple faded, she opened her eyes. Jarrett still knelt between her legs, watching her. His lips curled in a smile of pure male satisfaction.

“I’m impressed,” he said.

“Me, too.”

The smile faded as urgency took its place. She held open her arms. It was time. “Be with me,” she told him.

Jarrett unbuttoned his shirt. Fallon wasn’t going to have to ask him twice. He quickly shed his clothing, then reached for the protection in his nightstand drawer. As he slipped on the condom, she ran her hands over his chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said.

Her praise made him uncomfortable. “Guys aren’t beautiful.”

“Yes, they are.” Her green eyes glittered. “I want you, Jarrett. I want you inside of me. I want you to be the one.”

He almost asked her what she meant, but just as he was about to, she parted her legs and gave a little thrust of her hips. It was all the encouragement he needed. He pressed against her tight opening, then slowly pushed inside.

The slight resistance didn’t capture his attention in time. He was too busy gasping for breath at the wonder of her slick heat surrounding him. He tensed his muscles to plunge in deeper. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and she gave a small moan of encouragement. He thrust into her, feeling a barrier stretch, then break.

Disbelief nearly surpassed desire. He glanced at her, not sure he understood what had just happened.

“Fallon?”

She bit her lower lip. “Don’t stop, Jarrett. I want this. I want you.”

I want you to be the one. Now he understood. The missing pieces fell into place. She was a virgin—or she had been. Not anymore, thanks to him.

Like the proof of her virginity, his conscience split in two. Even as he told himself to stop, to pull back, the entire essence of his being screamed at him to continue. He needed to be in her, with her. He needed them to be one.

And then it was too late to pull back. Her body’s heated passage was too perfect, too tempting. He found himself moving in an age-old rhythm until there was no retreat. Until the ripple of her muscles around him drew him into paradise and he was left helpless as he spilled his seed and lost himself in pleasure.

When the last shudder had faded, he withdrew and sat on the edge of the bed. The enormity of what had just happened stunned him. What the hell had she been thinking?

“Jarrett?” Her voice was as tentative as the fingers tracing random patterns on his back. “Are you all right?”

“Isn’t that my line?” he asked, wondering how something so wonderful could leave him feeling so bitter.

“I—I don’t understand,” she said. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He spun to face her. “You were a virgin.”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I know.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

Her smile began to fade as confusion darkened her eyes. “Is it a problem? I guess I should have told you, but I didn’t really think about it. I wanted us to make love.” Confusion turned to shame. “It’s because it wasn’t very good, right? I mean, because I didn’t know what to do? I’m sorry. I should have thought of that.”

Her obvious pain left him feeling lower than sea slime. “It’s not that,” he muttered, wishing she had told him, because then he would have stopped. He would never have knowingly taken a virgin to his bed. He didn’t want that—not the responsibility or the memories. He wanted to be able to walk away from her. He wanted this not to matter. She kept messing with his mind until it was going to be impossible for him to forget.

“Are you sure?” she asked

Of course he was sure. Being with her had been everything he’d wanted and more. For the first time in years he’d made love instead of having sex. He’d enjoyed more than his partner’s body; he’d genuinely liked the person inside. He’d risked caring and had come out the loser, because he did care, damn her. He couldn’t risk anything changing. His life was fine the way it was. He wouldn’t do anything to recreate the past.

He drew his eyebrows together. “It’s an old trick, Fallon, and a good one. But it’s not going to work on me. I’m sorry you wasted yourself.”

He knew when she suddenly tried to cover her body that his harsh words had struck at her heart. All the while he’d loved her with his fingers and his tongue, she’d never once thought about her nakedness. Now she searched frantically for something to pull over herself. He took pity on her and handed her his discarded shirt.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, shrugging into the garment and holding the front together. “What trick?”

“You’re trying to trap me.”

She flinched as if he’d slapped her. “How can you think that? This wasn’t a trap. I care about you. I thought you cared, too. I thought—” She closed her eyes. “I thought you wanted me.”

He did, and that’s what made it worse.

She opened her eyes and stared at him. “What went wrong, Jarrett? What is so horrible that you have to punish me this way? I love you.”

Because she’d never lied before, he knew she spoke the truth now. Her words were like a knife through his flesh. They cut down to his heart, severing the organ and leaving it in bloody pieces. He wanted to tell her he didn’t mean it. He wanted to reach out and hold her next to him, begging her to say the words again and reassure her with his own declarations.

He did nothing. He’d learned the risk of caring, of trying to make something work. He knew the price of being wrong.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I never got it before,” she said. “I never understood about loving anyone. I thought I wasn’t capable, or that I would be too afraid. But I’m not. I love you, Jarrett. For the first time in my life I’ve been swept away. I’m not afraid.”

“I’d like you to leave.”

Fallon told herself that he meant her to leave his bed, but in her soul she knew he meant this island—and his life. He didn’t care that she loved him. For some reason, her precious gift had destroyed everything between them. Telling him she loved him had only made it worse. Perhaps she could understand if she knew why, but nothing made sense.

She’d offered him everything she had and he didn’t want it. He didn’t want her.

* * *

Her bedroom windows faced west, so she couldn’t watch the sun rise. Instead the western sky lightened slowly, from black to gray to cream to blue. Her eyes felt gritty, her body ached. Some of the discomfort came from not having slept, but most of it was from the pain of loving Jarrett and having him reject her.