Part 12 (1/2)
Her stomach fluttered crazily.
She touched his eyebrows next, so black, and yet they, too, were remarkably soft.
He circled her wrists and brought her palms to his cheeks to frame his face, and her skin felt cool against the divine heat of his. His ebony lashes swept down and his eyes closed.
He was beautiful, with strong sharply angled lines to his face, a soft sensuous mouth, hair and brows as black as midnight, his chin and jaw molded in clean lines. She could look at him forever. She could touch him forever. Her throat tightened with the sweet ache of emotion she felt toward this forbidden man.
What was it she felt? Grat.i.tude? Of course. Friends.h.i.+p? Not really, not compared to what she felt toward Charmaine or Diana. These feelings were more intense...more consuming...more-physical.
Was this l.u.s.t or love or a combination?
All she knew was that she couldn't get close enough, couldn't spend enough time in his company, couldn't draw enough pleasure from their touches and kisses to satisfy this wild greedy hunger she had for him.
”Come closer,” she begged softly.
His eyelids rose and he slid from the keg to kneel on the braided rug at her feet. She turned her knees to one side to allow him to lean in close and he released her wrists to circle her waist.
She felt his mouth move over hers as much in her hands as against her lips. His jaw moved as he angled his head and parted his lips against hers.
His tongue dipped out to taste her, hot and satiny textured. Hesitantly she parted her lips and his next sweep brushed his tongue against hers.
The erotic contact reached to her very core. Threading her hands into his silky hair, she held him fast, returned his kiss, relished each thrust and foray and bewildering jolt of sensation.
His hands, bracketing her waist, rubbed up and down her ribs through the fabric of her dress and underthings. The heat melded right through the fabric to her flesh. His thumbs brushed the undersides of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and her heart hammered double-time.
She must have taken over someone else's body, someone beautiful and healthy and desirable for him to want her like this. Someone else must be occupying her mind for her to have cast caution and upbringing aside to engage in fleshly pleasures. Because she sure wasn't Annie, not the hesitant, self-conscious girl she'd been only a few months ago.
His attentions lent her boldness and confidence, and combined with the reactions of her body, she felt completely new-completely whole. She'd done things the way her parents expected her to for as long as she could bear. No matter how dangerous this was, she wanted it. She wanted Luke.
She pulled her mouth away and rested her forehead against his. ”This was the longest week of my life.”
”Once when I couldn't sleep for thinking of you, I walked over to your house in the middle of the night and watched the windows.”
”You did?”
He nodded and her head bobbed against his. She smiled a foolishly giddy smile. ”My room is downstairs on the east corner. Next time you'll know.”
”You think there'll be a next time?” he asked, his lazy stroking through her dress keeping her nerves at a fevered pitch.
”Do you?” she countered.
”I hope not. I can't afford to lose sleep and I definitely can't afford to have your neighbors call the sheriff on me.”
Finally, she reached for his hands, placed them firmly over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and leaned into him. She closed her eyes and absorbed the sensations. One summer when a temporary librarian had taken over for Mrs. Krenshaw, she and Charmaine had read the books they weren't allowed to check out. They'd found the anatomy books highly informative, and the fiction fascinating, though the romantic parts regarding physical details between men and women had been sketchy.
They hadn't been able to imagine how two people performed such acts with a straight face. Now she knew. She knew the pleasure and the heat, and she welcomed learning more, experiencing more.
Luke rose and guided her down upon the rough wool blanket that covered his bed. She went willingly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. This kiss was a wet fusion of lips and breath, and it was new in that he lay with his body molded along the side of hers, chest to breast, belly to hip, thigh to thigh, hard to soft, his head and shoulders above her in the golden lamplight.
She loved the feel of his muscled body pressed against her, the sc.r.a.pe of his chin on her neck, the pressure of his hand, molding and shaping her breast through layers of fabric. He pressed his cheek to hers and she found his velvety earlobe with her lips...her tongue.
He lifted a thigh over hers, s.h.i.+fting his weight, urging her down into the mattress with firm gentleness. ”Does this hurt you anywhere?”
”Oh, no,” came her hoa.r.s.e encouraging reply.
Their mouths fused, tongues and lips sleek and seeking. Annie rocked up against him, pressing as close as she could. His body stilled, then he ended the kiss with a series of plucks across her jaw.
Luke moved his weight to the side and drew her into the fold of his arm, stroking her shoulder, her hair, her cheek. Annie lay with her head against his chest and listened to the rhythmic beat of his thudding heart as it slowed. She'd never dreamed of anything so good, of anyone so-alive. Alive and warm and exciting and real. Those were only a few of the words that described this man she wanted, this man she loved.
A cat meowed somewhere in the darkened depths of the stable.
”Luke, I lo-”
He pressed his fingers against her lips. ”It'll only make it worse if we say it.”
She pulled his hand away and tipped her head to look at him. ”We?” she asked hopefully.
”Even if your family didn't hate me, I couldn't offer to marry you, Annie,” he said, regret tingeing his words with roughness she knew he didn't intend. ”I couldn't bring you here to live. I have to have a house first.”
”It wouldn't matter to me,” she said. ”I would live anywhere with you.”
”It would matter to me. And to your family. And to the people of Copper Creek. I have to do better than this for you.”
She s.h.i.+fted and turned to her side, raising her head to see his face. ”You talked about building a house.”
”In the future. I spent every dime I ever earned and saved to build this livery. It's barely started to make money.”
”The waiting is so hard,” she said.
He curled a springy tendril of her hair around his forefinger. ”You're not tellin' me anything I don't know.”
”Well, why do we have to wait for a house? I'd have all I'd ever need right here.”
”There isn't even a real stove.”
”I can barely cook anyway.”
He chuckled, but then sobered. ”Annie, babies come when people get married. We couldn't bring a baby to this place.”
Warmth seeped through her belly and her limbs at those astonis.h.i.+ng words. Tears burned behind her eyes at the miraculous thought of having her own baby. She laid her forehead on his chest. ”You're so sensible and so wise and...and I can't believe you want me. I've always thought no one would want me-that I couldn't have a life like other people. Now I believe I can.”
She raised her head and met his glistening black eyes. ”I believe you can, too,” he said. ”I believe you can do anything you want to.”
”Well, I want to marry you,” she declared.
He pulled her up for a sweet lingering kiss. ”I want that, too. Let's be patient a while longer.”